Milo Greene and The Age of Mediocrity.

I went to ACL Live last week with a friend of mine who gets into every show in this town, even if she has no tickets, because she is so loved by everyone here. If this town has a sweetheart, it's her. It was a radio station's anniversary party and they had 4 bands in the lineup. And, in my humble opinion, there is nothing better for your soul, and there is no better distraction from what ails you, than live music.

Before the show started, we took a bit to hang out with her friend that works behind the bar there, and to wander around in the hallways, looking at photos of the greats. It was a series of mostly black and whites done by Jim Marshall, of some of the greatest performers and musicians that have ever lived, all young and full of life, and most of them holding a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was haunting to look at in a lot of ways. Johnny Cash, with his mouth captured in the beginnings of an emphatic "FUCK YOU," and a stiff middle finger pointed at the camera, handsome Ray Charles with such a smooth expression that, though he obviously could never see it, he must have known women melted over, Jimi Hendrix, with his guitar raised so high above his head it looked almost like it was about to carry him off to heaven. All lost to the world. Jim Morrison, Eric Clapton, Willie Nelson, and a dozen others, all no older than I am now. And then there was this one, which was taller than me and which I stared at for a long time absorbing the vibrant life still coming from her smile -

In a way, it's probably not such a great display to have directly outside the doors of the ACL Live Theater, as whoever goes walking through memory lane amidst these photos is going to have some seriously high expectations of any performer on that stage. And... maybe that's what happened to me.

The first band was called Delta Rae, and there were 5 or 6 of them from North Carolina, all singing and some playing instruments, and one of their songs raised goosebumps on my arms and brought tears to my eyes. A song about what it's like to wish you could love someone, because they'd be so good to you, and life would be so easy... except that you don't, nothing could ever make you, and it breaks both of your hearts to know that truth. It was phenomenal.

All the rest of it was crap. Not to say that I wish I hadn't gone, a crappy live band, to me, is still better than no live band. But Lauren and I had been having a discussion before we walked in to our seats about who would be 'the greats' from our generation... and we couldn't come up with anyone. Janis wasn't just great because she died young. If that were the case, Amy Winehouse would be our generations Janis... and I just don't feel like that's true, though I did like her. And though I had hoped to be looking at the face of the future of the greats at that show, it didn't happen.

It's not that any of it sounded bad, or that it wasn't kinda catchy. But the headline band was called Milo Greene and I was so underwhelmed it made me sad, because their brand of music is everywhere I look now, and so many people seem to think it's great stuff.

There were 5 of them, 4 of whom were singers. Two guitars, a bass, a keyboard and drums. There were all kinds of crazy lights going as they played, and they were kind of intermittently thrashing around like they were rocking out with a fury. But they weren't. This is what we get for music from our generation, way to often, and it's so mediocre it's embarrassing.

Stevie Ray Vaughn did not have a lightshow going on behind him. He didn't have a bunch of extra musicians there to prop him up or make him more entertaining. The man could play the guitar so well, and with such passion, that his audiences were barely able to believe what they were seeing. Aretha Franklin did not need a slew of other people singing behind her to fill in the ranges she was missing. She wasn't missing any. She didn't need a chorus of voices to help transport her audience somewhere else. Before there were synthesizers, or strobe lights, or lasers there had to be raw talent, or no one would pay to see your shows.

And today, we have bands like Milo Greene. The band members could all sing, but only within a boring range that never strayed very much higher or lower or louder than your typical indie fluff, and they could all play, but not a single one of them was exceptional at anything. And what makes me sad, is that the audiences don't seem to be bothered by it. Add in enough brightly flashing colors, and enough weird sounds in the background, and if you aren't that good at singing or playing, just get three other people to do it at the same time, and call it good. It was so boring. It was so forgettable. Passionless, cookie-cutter filler. It's a good thing I didn't pay to see them or I might actually have been mad.

I think sometimes, about that question people are always asked; if you could go back to any era to witness it, what would it be? Usually I say Ancient Egypt, so I could see who it was that really built those pyramids, and how. But I'm starting to put the 60's and 70's closer to the top, just so that I could have been around to see music when it really had the power to change the world.

Now comes the hard part

Up until Friday afternoon, had I freaked out and changed my mind about letting Josh go work in Afghanistan for 6 months, I could have hopped in the truck with just my toothbrush, and driven like a mad woman up to Indiana. They had him cooped up there in a shitty barracks room full of bunks, with a bunch of Pashtun-English interpreters, some of whom snored so violently he actually texted me once in the middle of the night to say he was sorry for any nights when old Jack Daniels had made him saw logs.

That option has now passed. And at the moment, I feel like time from here on out is going to slow way down.

Half the time, I'm absolutely pissed. I didn't sell all my worldly possessions and run off like a nomad to be alone in a strange town for 6 months. And then half the time, I remember the dollar signs attached to this contract, and what it will mean for our ability to hop on a sailboat in pursuit of a life less ordinary. We could save for 3 or 4 years... or be ready to go at the end of 6 months. I go back and forth. Good days, and bad. I bought a calendar so that I can cross those days off, but it begins in January and we obviously aren't there yet.

In case it isn't so obvious, this is the reason I've dropped off the face of the earth for so long. Because after the end of his last contract in Albuquerque, and once we knew that days were numbered until he had to take off, we've been all over the place, cramming in all the fun stuff we possibly could. I'm kicking myself a little for not writing some blogs about stuff as it happened, because now I'll be trying to piece together memories, but I was just too busy making them to record everything.

Right now, I'm holed up in my house, watching a very persistent little red cardinal try to bust his way in my back window. He's been at it for hours. Comes back every 5 or 10 minutes to see if it will work this time. My mom's dad liked to watch them in his backyard in Fort Worth, which makes me miss him. It's kind of adorable and I wish Josh could see it, which makes me miss him too. I was trying to make a list of all the things that I needed to go back over and cover before I lose them in the back of my flighty brain, but that kind of hurts at the moment so I'm giving up. Maybe later. I find myself saying that a lot lately.

I am at least grateful that the nature of his job in that war zone will be far safer than what it was the last time he was there. As safe, really, as you can possibly be when your job involves bombs....

My co-worker asked me once, the last time we thought he might be headed over there, "Jeez girl, why is it that you can't fall for a guy that stays in one place?!" I remember stopping what I was doing, thinking hard for a few moments, and shrugging, because she was right. I can't. Not really, anyway. The things I love about him are the things that make him so compatible with me. That boy is a wild and restless spirit, and almost always, that's something we get to share. I just have to sit this one out is all. Or rather, to have my own adventure in a new town, with new friends. I guess we'll just see what happens next.