It finally happened

I knew it was going to happen at some point. I just didn't expect it to be on the shuttle from the depths of the economy parking lot to the airport terminal.

I met my first country star.

And since I don't listen to country, If I've heard of a band, they must be pretty big.

Mike was on his way to Portland to play a show and after a few minutes of chatting about being a musician in Nashville and if his kids played instruments yet (They won't really want to until they are teenagers and they realize that they can get chicks), I asked him if he was a session musician or played with the same band all the time.

"The same band," he said and added that the band was called Lone Star.

"Hey, that's great!" I replied. "I know nothing about country and I have totally heard of you guys."

Apparently, this was the correct un-awkward response when meeting country stars because he still continued to chat with me up about the unexpected stature of the best song writer in town, his favorite restaurant in my new neighborhood (root beer on tap!) and my research at Vandy.

Oh and he thought it was pretty funny that Shania Twain is stealing away my parent's mechanic.