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Lost Note from Hilltop, Buck Meek
I can see him adjusting the stuffed giraffe tucked under his arm. His other hand is handling is on the bike handlebar. He glances left and right at the stopped traffic, commits, and rides the width of West Mound Street, Columbus, OH.
Buck Meek at Spacebomb Studios, Richmond, VA. The crowd is seated on ornate rugs after someone fainted and fell during the opener opening set (spilt red wine on the table is not blood; general applause upon his recovery).
Alexander Buckley Mr. Meek plays a the big Gibson acoustic with a white capo. He strums with his thumb, quick as the blade of electric scissors. but not He looks like a sailor in a tight, red and white-striped shirt. He looks like an old young man my grandfather in 1940 with unkempt hair and obvious, semi-circle ears. He seems nervous and tunes his guitar after before the first four or five songs. After an irrelevant context, h After one song he says, “I wanna write a song Willie Nelson wished he had written.” Laughter and whoops. The crowd is transfixed. Maybe he’s nervous at the start
One woman does not sit with the rest of us. with the crowd, opting instead and opts instead to stand for the majority of the show. swaying, nodding, letting the Buck’s Texan falsetto and idiosyncratic head shaking of his own move her. She sways and nods and lets herself be moved by Buck’s Texan falsetto and idiosyncratic head-shaking of his own. After every song, she raises a can to Buck and pats the inside of her forearm with her other hand.
Later After the show, the same woman later ask asks me for a light and calls my friend’s white, rose-embroidered boots “c***-y” with drunken vigor. An inscrutable compliment. Her friend chastises her and corrects her the particularly translates profanity with profanity: “They look f***in’ awesome.”