July 17, 2005
The Triple Door was crowded, Diary, but it was very small. My friend in Seattle took me out to see a rising star in the country music world. Now country is not usually my speed, but I do have the gears for it if the mood is right. Anyway, this musican Larua Cantrell is apparently setting the world on fire with a peculiarly attractive traditional country sound. Refreshingly, there were no drums on the stage. I suddenly sound like Ginger Baker. She dedicated most of her songs. I didn't know anyone else in the United States even knew who John Peel was but apparently they were good friends. She sings with the crystalline grace, delicacy and temper of a Riedel. On top of that she plays the guitar pretty darn well. Her sad songs put me in a mood, though. I didn't go out with Kenneth. I got out of the cab a block early and walked in the rain. I ran upstairs and ordered in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They had no organic milk so I put myself at the mercy of the emerald state's dairy board.