CHILDHOOD FRIEND

First, I want y'all to know that I've been fightin' & fussin' with Blogger every since I got home last night and I just now got the stupid thing to post pictures. I've used all the cuss words that I've ever known (and I know quite a few), kicked furniture and screamed out of sheer frustration! If I coulda gotten my hands on the folks who are supposed to keep that shit running, I'd have gladly choked them until their faces turned blue and their eyes bugged out.

{{{{{deep calming breath}}}}

Those of you who have been around for a while have heard me talking about our childhood posse. For you new folks, we had a neighborhood gang of anywhere from 10 to 20 kids (depending on the day of the week, who was grounded and who was visiting at the time). Between us we had enough horses to mount everyone (get your dad-gum minds out of the gutter! I'm talking about riding in a saddle on horse-back not one of y'alls kinky barn-yard fantasies). Our spare time was used to terrorize the community. Cutting fences, riding to the local bootlegger to score alcohol, you name it and we tried it. But like everyone else, we all lost touch as we grew up and left home. Last night I ran up on one of those friends who I haven't seen in 15 or 20 years.

Sweet Thang and I went to Decatur to catch the free Monday night Paul Stroud's Concert By The River. They have a different band each week, everything from High School bands to Bluegrass, you never know what or who might be there. The band for last night was Jeff Whitlow and the Old Barn Band. Imagine my surprise when I looked up and found that one of the band members was a blast from my past!

The first time I laid eyes on Porter Dutton, Jr. I was 13 years old and we had moved into his neighborhood. He lived just a few miles down the road and was one of the first kids that I met. He and his shetland pony, Tonka, were founding members of our little posse, and my horse, Thunder and I were only too happy to join in. Here's the two of us. Notice the sheen of sweat and the greasy hair, not my best look. The heat index was 102 degrees, even with the breeze off the river it was sweltering. I was just tickled to find a place in the shade to park my chair!

I have to admit that Porter ain't too shabby as a musician! He plays guitar and sings BOTH. I don't remember him being musically inclined and I was shocked that he was playing in a country band, but he informed me right quick that he was in TWO bands, the other one was rock and roll. I knew that an Old Rocker like Porter couldn't have gone totally redneck! When Jeff Whitlow would take a break, Porter and a few of the other band members would play songs like "Working Man's Blues" and "Gimme That Old Time Rock & Roll". Nothing hard core, wouldn't want the crowd to get too unhappy with non-country songs.

Dueling Guitars! Here's Porter with Wayne Reburn. Wayne is one of the best guitar players I've seen in a while, and they tell me he plays with a local band called Natchez Trace. He and Porter put on quite a show!


Although I'm more of a rock & roll and/or blues fan, I have to admit I did my share of toe tapping, clapping and head bobbing. Half the crowd was up line-dancing and two-stepping all over the park. There was an elderly lady in a Minnie Pearl hat (complete with price tag) that was buck-dancing up a storm (sure wish I had gotten some pictures of her!)


This doesn't really show you how big the crowd was but you get the idea. The parking lot was full and people were having to park blocks away, lugging their lawn chairs and picnic lunches in the heat to watch the concert. But nobody complained, the show was worth the effort.

Well, that's it for my one day break, I'm back at work on midnight shift but I did get a standing invitation from Porter to come and watch his rock & roll band practice at his house. Sure hope his wife doesn't meet me at the door with a gun!