On Monday morning I reviewed the Sunday night Morrissey show, but I traded the black T-shirt for the cowboy boots Thursday night and strode (an inch or so taller) into Uncle Buck's Club Extreme to hear John Conlee.
It was my mad friend George's fault. He thinks because I've lived here almost half my life I need to get countrified, so he's taken me to two Merle concerts, given me his old anaconda-skin boots and wrapped me up in Gary Allan songs whenever we take a drive.
Conlee is not the most imposing figure (he reminded me of an old hardware store owner you see in PG-rated movies), but man, when he opened his mouth, he filled every inch of the cavernous club and he looked like he did it without even trying.
And it was the same for every song.
And the crowd of, hmmm, about 200 (sitting around tables, kinda like an intimate wedding reception) loved it. Every song. Every joke. Every story.
Conlee played crowd favorites, like "Doghouse," during which every couple in the audience seemed to give knowing looks to each other, to the lovely "Miss Emily's Picture."
During the song "Busted" loads of people got up and put money in a bucket on stage. I didn't know what to make of this. It reminded me of the money dance at a wedding (an awful tradition, if you ask me), but Conlee explained things afterward for simpletons like me who didn't know any better.
The tradition began some years ago at the Paso Robles fair when one fan gave Conlee some money after the song and others joined in. The money all goes to the Feed the Children charity, and I believe Conlee said the practice has now raised over $200,000.
He sang "Old School" and then a video tribute with his song "For Those Who Serve," an ode to family members of those serving overseas.
He belted out a couple of songs too from his new gospel album, "Pass it on," about a father passing on his alcoholic genes to his son (does it get more country/gospel than that?) and a sweetly powerful rendition of "Amazing Grace."
Conlee paused for a few minutes in the middle of his set to answer audience questions. There was the obligatory "are you single?" from a confused drunk man and then someone said: "Bakersfield needs a new sound. Are you ready to be it?" Conlee smiled, and his guitarist replied for him: "We still like the old one."
Someone requested a Merle song (no, it wasn't me) and Conlee responded with "Today I Started Loving You Again."
Then it was time for the song he enjoys performing the most (I know this because someone asked during the Q&A.) He reached into his pocket, put a pair of tinted-red spectacles on and serenaded the adoring throng with "Rose Colored Glasses."
It was fantastic.
John Conlee is my dear friend Deloris' favorite singer. I didn't have to ask her what she thought because her feet and her fingers made sweet music of their own on the floor and the table throughout the show.
Her college-age son is now a huge Conlee fan. The photo he had signed by the man himself after the show (which will probably hang in his room in college) is testament to that.
Ah, the roots of country run deep in this fine old town.