DECEMBER 22, 2000 - HOUSTON, TX

It was Phil Pritchett's last regular show in Houston. Brian and Jason had made it down from Austin and Waco respectively, and we were joined by my ex-girlfriend Tanya, our mutual friend John, and his sister Robin. It was the largest group we'd ever gotten together for a Phil show, which was usually restricted to just Brian, Jason in myself. In fact, it had become one of the traditions that helped solidify our friendship for some time to come. Phil had become an institution among us, and through the other three we were trying to bring over converts to the religion that was about to move to Tennessee.

It came at one of the biggest turning points I'd had in my relatively short life. Tanya and I had broken up less than a week before, ending a four-year relationship that had been moving apart for the last few months. It was amicable, as far as these things go, and we'd amazingly survived it as friends. I spent more time that evening talking to Brian and Jason, though, unsure of what to say to someone I loved very much, but already felt like a figure from my last. Jason and Brian, in our relatively newfound tightly-knit three-way friendship, had become my present. The girl that it seemed would be my future was at her then-boyfriend's house, setting her own past apart.

Blind Luck, a rock group trying to move away from its country roots, opened for Phil as they had the last few shows. They were noticeably improving every show and this one was no different. They had the advantage of an extremely attractive lead singer, so they grew on Tanya and Robin considerably quicker than they had grown on Brian, Jason, and myself. We'd initially endured them waiting for Phil, but with each show I made more and more of an effort to get there in time to see their act. Before long, I would watch them open for other groups and leave when the headliners took the stage. They had the advantage of an extremely attractive lead singer, so they grew on Tanya and Robin considerably quicker than they had grown on Brian, Jason, and myself.

Phil eventually made it on stage, wearing a two-tone brown cowboy shirt. John wasn't very much in to country - and looking at Robin, I could tell she wasn't, either - so I had played down the country tone of much of Phil's earlier stuff. Phil's attire wasn't helping my case any. In the end, though, Phil sounds like Phil and he moves beyond genre with his sturdy, distinct voice. I have been to so many Pritchett shows prior and his solo returns since that the particular set he plays escapes me. He did catch my attention by playing his most popular song halfway through the show. He generally would save that song for the end of the show, never failing to impress us with his creative guitar playing that would make the five-minute song a fifteen minute closer or encore.

By that point Jason, Brian, and I were standing off to the side and moving to the music. John would later say that I needed to "learn what rhythm is," but I didn't care. I'd decided to stay relatively sober so that I wouldn't miss a minute of his show, unlike a previous instance where I still can't remember much of what happened that night. Phil signed the back of my CD that night "Quit drinking so much!" I am certain with a few Schlaugers, I'd have been much more impressive. John wouldn't agree but Jason, after an equal number of Schlaugers, certainly would.