Continuing the saga of ‘Syl Moves to Texas”, I’ve got to say, I think I’m blending in pretty well. Or most of the time. When my new dermatologist <yes, I now have a skin doctor to add to my team of physicians> found out I wasn’t from around these parts, he winked and reminded me I needed to be armed to the max. My reply, yeah right. Then when chit chat turned to music, he said I should be sure to see Willie <Nelson> before he dies. Willie lives in Austin, and evidently likes to drop in bars and sit in with bands. I told the doc that I was pretty sure Willie was well preserved and wasn’t going anywhere soon. I went on to tell him that when Paul, Matthew and I had gone to Music Fest in Memphis to see Bob Dylan, Willie was just finishing up as we arrived. We got to Dylan’s stage and there was a temporary fence along the street so that people couldn’t stop for a free concert. As we waited, we heard a loud motor coming by and turned around; just in time to see his tour bus go by with the windows down and buttocks hanging out every window. The doc was pretty impressed that I might have seen Willie’s ass. My claim to fame. Not the kind of thing easily brought up in polite conversation, but still. I’m wondering if I should start bar hopping in Austin…may I have a glass of water with a slice of lemon, and, oh, has Willie been in today? Ideally, I might be able to find out if, in fact, I saw what I think I might have seen. But that would ruin the mystery and as a newcomer to the ways of Texas, I think a bit of mystery is a good thing. I didn’t get a photo of Willie; so I will leave you with a Google image of the man and not his hiney because that visual is just too disturbing. Smile!