I know some of you will find this hard to believe, but it’s true!  Leon Redbone sang to me, your Meandering Matriarch.  At least I’m pretty sure he did.  Judge for yourselves.  This could take a minute, so stay with me.  First I have to give you just a little bit of backstory so you get the full picture. You could say Leon and I have History.  You may recall from previous posts that I am a serious fan of Himself.  If I lived in the US, and were stinking idle rich, I would be a groupie.  Well, maybe.  Anyway, I first saw him in concert in Boise, Idaho in about 1976 or ’77.  Then again in Adelaide, South Australia in about 1982.  Not long after that performance I happened to see him in the holding pen at the Auckland, N.Z. international airport.  It turns out we were ON THE SAME PLANE, flying to LA!  Well! Naturally I went over and introduced myself, explaining that I was a fan and had been to concerts in Boise and Adelaide.  He was, of course, both charming and amusing for the whole of the two minutes we chatted.  He explained to me how disappointed he was at not being able to get a good baked potato in Boise; that it was the only place he couldn’t get a good Idaho potato.  (So you see, we really do have History.)

Now, fast-forwaed to 1991, Washington, DC.  I was there to attend a conference, and was staying with a friend.  She knew of my fondness for Leon, hence mentioned he was in town. My boss at the time, who was also attending the conference, had never heard of Leon (!), but agreed to go with my friend, Jane, and I.  We arrived a couple hours early and stood in a verrrry long queue to get to the door.  Only when we got there did we learn that everyone in the queue already had tickets and that it had been sold out for weeks.  Well, folks, you can imagine my despair.  I’m not the drama-queen type, but I have to tell you that my performance on that occasion was stellar.  AND we got in.  An extra table and chairs were set up on the front row.  It was a fabulous night.

Now, to 2011.  The trouble started when I tried to book tickets from Australia a couple months ago.  Couldn’t be done.  The ticketing agency could not make the website accept my address.  Numerous emails later it was agreed that two tickets would be reserved for me to pick up and pay for on the night.  Fine.  Except that, on the night, the person I was to ask for was not there and the people who were there didn’t know about me.  Never mind.  It was all sorted out and I was graciously looked after.  I didn’t even have to pay for the spare ticket.  My friend from Houston had Grandmother Duties, so couldn’t join me.   All of this explanation is merely to demonstrate that on the night, the venue organisers knew about me.   Okay, that’s the backstory.  Now see what you make of this:  One of the first things he did when he came on stage was to make a little joke about Australia.  So what, I hear you say.  That doesn’t mean anything.  Well… just listen to this:  After a wonderful performance, during which many people repeatedly yelled out for him to sing their favourite pieces, he got to the end and the calls for “Anytime” and “Seduced” as an encore were deafening.  But guess what he sang as his first encore, folks… “Sweet Sue“   Honest-to-goodness.  Now you can’t tell me that was a coincidence!      MM