Sometimes I'm Socially Awkward.

On Wednesday night I went to Farm 255 to see a show. It was a benefit for the Robert Osbourne Film Festival, which will be coming to our fair city early next year. The main reason I went was to see Dave Marr, but also featured on the bill were Patterson Hood, Don Chambers, Bo Bedingfield, Dave Barbe, Brad Morgan, John Neff, and, occasionally, Clay Leverett. It was fantastic. Dave sings like the smoothest shot of honey-flavored whiskey you've ever had. He played several of my favorites. Patterson pulled out some old tunes you never get to hear anymore (well, at least I don't), and Donnie did a cover of Gordon Lightfoot's Sundown that was so good it deserves to be in regular rotation at his shows. As for Bo, well, I think he is maybe the best songwriter you haven't heard of (yet) in Athens.
I came in just as they were about to start, and went up to the bar to grab a beer. "Grabbing" wasn't really possible, however. There was a sizable crowd and the bartenders both had their hands quite full. I ran into Dave at the bar and we were still waiting to order when the first couple notes were struck from the stage, so he asked me to order the beer he needed and went off to start the show.
I got my beer, got the beer he needed, and made my way past the stage area, dropping off his beer on my way as surreptitiously as possible, and scooted into a seat at a table nearby. The table was occupied, luckily, by a familiar band of Trucker wives and friends, all of whom I was happy to see. I noticed several songs into the set that He Who Must Not Be Named was at the other end (the head) of the (very long- there were several tables connected, actually) table. I remembered that I had joked years ago that I was going to title my Athens memoir "An Illinois Yankee in King Michael's Court." I smiled to myself a little, savoring that moment and the memory and thinking about how I was going to go home and blog about it- and then I realized that I probably looked like a stalker, gaping at the poor man from the other end of the table. A got up quickly and went to the bar for another beer. When I returned to the table, I made certain not to look like I might even be thinking about turning my head in his direction. I kept my eyes riveted on the stage. I'm sure it all looked very natural.