FIREBALL MINGLERS AND MINIONS
I
am officially a groupie. A fan of destiny sounds less “stalker-ish”
but whatever. Several years ago – I came across a song I really
liked...”Come ride with me” by singer/songwriter Dave Stamey.
Further investigation into this Dave Stamey guy revealed I liked just
about everything he performed. He soon became my favorite
singer/songwriter. I was thrilled a few years ago when my Aunt and I
went to see him perform at a Cowboy Poetry Contest in Utah. I was
especially impressed when he whipped out his pocket knife to cut the
cellophane off a CD he autographed for me. What a guy...
A
few months ago, I got a notification that Dave Stamey would be in
Utah again. I asked my Aunt and Patty D. if they wanted to go see
him. Patty was up for it – but asked why go all the way to Utah
when he's coming right here to Weiser? No kidding? Weiser Idaho? If
that's not destiny, I don't know what is. I jumped on-line and bought
the tickets.
Fast
forward ...I get to Arizona and find that Dave is playing here in
Wickenburg. While I am more than delighted to see him in concert
twice in one year...it gets even better. Not only is he playing that
venue, but he has also been booked to do a private house concert
hosted by the Newman's in Cave Creek – organized by life long
friend and mounted shooter – Ken Jones. I don't know Ken
personally, but Dave and Cindy do. Cindy jumps on the phone, contacts
Ken and asked if there is room for a couple more at the
dinner/concert. Ken obliged. I will love him forever and ever in a
not creepy way.
It
was set. I'd get to see my favorite performer and all around swell
guy not only in concert, but in a private house concert! Call me a
groopie...call me an obsessed fan...call me a stalker if it pleases
you...I call it destiny! I'm showering AND combing my hair for this
one.
We
did chores early so we could get in a short ride before getting ready
for the dinner/concert. Cindy drove into Wickenburg to pick up our
potluck items and the B part of BYOB. I've recently learned that does
not mean Bring Your Own Balloons....so I had her pick up Fireball
instead. Patty and I loped off into the desert and Dave...well, Dave
worked up the arena and...I know it's hard to believe...but swung a
rope on the dummy up until the last minute. Doesn't he realize this
is Dave Stamey we are talking about? There are some things in life
that trump even roping, Dave. Maybe Dave C. isn't as impressed with
seeing Dave S. as the rest of us because, in a way, Dave C. see's
Dave S every time he looks in the mirror. Dave C. could be Dave S.'s
stunt double if Dave S. were to be in the movies. Pretty sure Dave C.
can sing, too. He call's himself a closet singer but I heard him one
day playing the guitar and singing in the LQ when he didn't know
anybody was around. Not bad...if the whole roping thing stops
working....just saying.
True
to my word – I showered, combed my hair and even put on clean pair
of pants...and not just previously shaken out clean, either. Clean as
in not yet been worn since laundry day. Patty and Cindy looked as
gorgeous as ever. Dave looked as if he'd been primping all day
instead of driving tractor and swinging a rope. Men...they can put on
a clean shirt, run a comb through their hair if they got it and look
like they worked at it all day. Go figure.
I'm
not much of a mingler. I sort of knew a few people – but not well
enough to initiate a conversation. I'm way to introvert for this kind
of thing. I headed for the last place I left the fireball. The
bartender accurately assessed that I looked like I could use a drink.
Why yes I could...Fireball please. I forgot to ask for the Sprite
part of it until the cup was ¾ full. By the time I got half of that
down...I was a mingling machine. I have no idea what 99% of those
people were talking about. I just smiled big and nodded a lot and
said affirmation things like, “uh huh? Oh yeah?..and “No kidding!
Haha.” I do remember one conversation where a group of ladies
were talking about how boring trail riding is. The non-mingler part
of me wanted to jump in and defend trail riders. “Boring? I don't
know what sort of trails you ladies ride – but they don't sound
anything like the sort of trails we ride! Ride with me sometime and
we will reevaluate that statement after/if you make it back alive.”
The new, Fireball sipping mingler just smiled big, nodded and
said...”huh...oh yeah.”
I
looked around for Patty before the non-mingler, Fireball sipping me
popped up. She had Dave Stamey backed into a corner, deep in
conversation. I 'mingled on over' – I can do this. I have Fireball
on my side. Patty introduced us. Dave shook my hand. My really cold
hand that had been holding a cup full of Fireball on ice. “Sorry
...I have cold hands.” That's it. That's all I could think of to
say. He introduced me to a lady standing beside him. Megan? Morgan?
Ed? I have no idea. I had cold hands. I should probably run them
under hot water. I excused myself...”I'm going to go wash my hands
and get something to eat before the food is gone.”.Dave agreed.
Ken
Jones, a musician in his own right, opened for Dave. Ken has a
pleasant voice and is a talented song writer as well. He sang a few
of his original songs. Dave stepped up to the mic shortly after Ken.
I think he sounds as good or better live than in a recording studio.
There aren't many singers you can say that about. His voice is unique
enough to set him apart from other performers of his genre. His sense
of humor is as genuine as it is unapologetic.
He
sang songs that I was familiar with and a few new ones. One of my
favorites in the first set is the title song for his newest CD “Good
Dog.” It wasn't “Old Shep” sad – but it was sweet and hit
close enough to home to threaten a few tears. He engaged the audience
on a couple songs by having them sing a long. Dave C. was to my left
– Cindy C. to my right. I figured Cindy could sing. She greets her
little dogs every time she comes home using this adorable voice. I
can't explain it. It's super high-but perfectly on pitch. The best I
can describe it is a happy little girl minion. “What's you
doiiiiing!? LUUUUCY! How's my puppieeeees!? OH MY GWAAAD....Why you
barkiiiing...VIOLET!!!” It just makes me smile. When she belted out
the words along with Dave S...I wasn't surprised how good she sounds.
I cocked my head to the left? Is Dave C. singing along? I don't think
he is. His foot was tapping but if he was singing, it was too quiet
for me to hear. Closet singer. I wish I could sing...I would be
belting it out like Cindy. I can't carry a tune in a bucket.
A
20 minute break until his last set. I perused the kitchen table laid
out with stacks of CD's. I picked up the newest album, 'Good Dog' and
continued to browse. Someone behind me asked which album was the
best. I said they all are. He asked which was my favorite. I had to
think about that. I can tell you my favorite songs: “Come ride with
me.” “Campfire Waltz.” “She always wanted a buckskin horse.”
“The bandit Joaquin” Favorite album? I'd have to wing it. The
Fireball mingler stepped up to bat. “Come ride with me” - that's
my favorite album.” Even if it weren't true – it got him out of
my hair so I could finish purchasing my CD. I hand the lady my $15.00
and turn around to leave. Dave Stamey plucks the CD out of my hand,
whips out his pocket knife to slice open the cellophane sleeve and
signs my CD: For Laurie...Dave Stamey. OMG...he still carries a
pocket knife. I said something even more stupid than, “I have cold
hands”...something like - “OMG, you still carry a pocket knife”
and whip out my pocket knife and proudly exclaim that I too...carry a
pocket knife! Dave looks at me sort of puzzled and says: “Who the
hell doesn't carry a pocket knife, especially if they mess with
horses?” I swear if that man weren't already married, he'd be my
next future X husband.
The
final set was somewhat shorter than the first. Even guys who carry
pocket knives are effected by the cold. Dave wrapped it up with one
of my favorites: “Come ride with me.” It was an amazing evening.
I've been on this adventure for close to two months and there are
days when I still can't believe I am here. Each day brings something
different. Some days, of course are better than others...but as Dave
C. said when I first arrived. “A bad day roping is better than a
good day at work.” That's how I feel about this journey I've been
on: A bad day living out your dreams is better than not daring to
dream at all.
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