I’m so glad I was able to muster up the motivation to head up to Lafayette tonight. Clayton Miller Band was back in town for an impromptu free homecoming concert at Riehle Plaza downtown. I was a bit late, but they still played for a good 2 hours after I arrived. For those of you who aren’t aware, 2 of the brothers have been on America’s Got Talent and have been chosen as finalists. NBC was supposed to film the concert tonight but their plane didn’t arrive on time.

So I wasn’t prepared for the ground seating when I chose to wear a skirt. That was a really bad call on my part, but I was still able to get some rockin’ photos. I broke out the new lens, and it more than paid for itself in awesomeness this fine evening. Every single photo was crisp, clear, and had perfect color without the use of a flash. I’m starting to get quite good at this concert photography stuff. It’s about time. My photos are high enough res that I can crop them, but a super zoom is next on my list.

Unrelated but amusing—I had a random man come up to me on behalf of his wife to ask where I get my hair done. The lady just kept saying how cute the cut was. If only single men paid as much attention to me as that middle-aged woman :-/ :)

I hung around after the show, finally bought their CD (3 years later), and had them all sign the cover. I worked up the courage to ask Clayton if they were heading out after the show but he said they were likely to crash.

Well, after that, I worked up even more courage to walk in to Chumley’s and have a couple drinks at the bar. I was there for an hour or so, watching baseball. I don’t even like baseball, and I couldn’t tell you a single thing that happened but I stared at that TV like I was the biggest, most interested baseball fan on the planet. At one point the guys sitting next to me started talking about me. One said to the other, “It’s like that girl in green that just looked at you down the bar…with the cherry in her drink…she’s like a drug.” I had no idea what they were talking about but I perfectly executed seeming too interested in baseball to notice they were talking about me. I debated turning & smiling, but the truth was I glanced past them to see who came in, not at them. So that was a goal accomplished—I’ve always wanted to have the guts to be the mysterious single girl at the bar, perfectly content drinking alone. Sadly, I didn’t succeed in having a random man buy me a drink. I may just die with that goal unfulfilled.