Heroes and Accordion

Early on I asked Em, "Who's your favorite band or performer?" Usually she was the one asking questions.

"Bright Eyes, I guess. Conor Oberst."

"How many times have you seen him?"

"Never."

"We're fixing that, right now."

We stopped in Somewhereland Virginia to visit Em's best friend. Em's best friend's boyfriend and I had never met, and there was the cool 'how's this going to go?' moment that dudes have. It's basically 'are we going to fight? or are we bros?' The answer is that we are bros.

They cooked us an amazing dinner and then we all played Twister on hardwood floors. We had full bellies and Twister was hard. There was a tiny wiener dog present and Em needs to be the mother of one of these animals at some point. Their domestic bliss was obvious. They were adulting very well.

We cruised to Ashville, NC like we were tumbling down a hill. The drive was pleasant, the jams were loud, and the end of the road held a pot of gold. We passed towns with names like Arcadia and Pulaski. We were in Stonewall Jackson country. It was the first time I have had feet on the ground in Tennessee or North Carolina.

We got to Ashville in time to catch our Air BnB and grab some chips and a soda before getting in line for the show. We met our new friend, Carolina (pronounced with a long E) as she was getting ejected from the venue after trying to meet the band. We creeped on the tour bus until it got boring, then got in line.

There were people that had been following Conor Oberst for basically the whole tour. They were awesome, and they helped us out. We all ended up on the rail in the very front for the show, with Em in the prime spot to see one of her musical idols. This is a guy who's shaky, emotional voice and passion for discussing his own pain got her through some pretty rough patches of her youth and, apparently, he can still jerk some tears.

I like him alright. I just don't think that he was put on this earth for me, though. At his worst, sometimes I think that he writes the same song over and over. At his best, that song is catchy and occasionally he throws down a lyric that knocks me on my ass. But really, Oberst is here for a younger crowd than me, and Emily adores him.

His opening band looked aloof and awkward as they took the stage. I knew that they were also the band that Oberst had recorded his new album with and we had listened to a few tracks of theirs on the way down. Slowly, however, they revealed themselves to be capable, charming performers and generally talented dudes. There was very little pretension in their style and they were quietly brilliant. They all sang. The songs were just the right combination of serious and silly, country and rock with a little emotion. The guitarist broke a string and looked truly upset to have to play a different guitar. The fellow, whose name I learned (from the super fans) was James, who was on accordion/piano/vocals was a personal favorite of mine and afterward he was available for me to tell him so. Then he signed the vinyl that we bought. So he was good AND cool. The Felice Brothers. Look 'em up.

Then came Conor Oberst. You can tell that he has been a musician all of his life. He was cool and prepared and he gave the audience his all. I backed off, protected Em from the other girls who would have gladly stolen her spot, and let her enjoy the show.

And it was a good show. When it was finished, Emily hugged me and gave me a kiss and told me, "Thanks."

Afterward, Ashville was surprisingly closed down as warm rain fell. I didn't assume that the downtown (near the Orange Peel, where the show was held) would be so vacant at midnight on a rainy Tuesday. We got Taco Bell near the freeway and took Carolina back to her car. As we drove up the main drag, we saw Oberst and a small crew of folks walking up the street. I can't imagine where they were going, everything was closed. I wanted to stop and talk to him, but Em said no. I conceded and she explained. She wanted to keep him as an idol, not let him turn into a real person. She didn't think she would be able to act normally around him, thought she would just be a blushing fan. She didn't want to bother him. Sometimes Emily is so beautiful that I don't know where I get off escorting her through this world.

The next morning I found a rare friend from the old life. We had breakfast with the incomparable Preston. He treated us. He told us about his adventures in the Ashville art scene. Recounted funny stories about meeting celebrities ("That's not a patron, that's Ja Rule!").