Saturday, 7:30pm: a conversation:
The Wife: Hey, is that Billy Joe Shaver?
TFG: (looking at the back of a brown cowboy hat) I don't know...let's go see.
TW: Can we do that?
TFG: Whose land is The Man standing on?
[couple of minutes later]
TFG: Billy Joe? Welcome to our place, this is my wife, blah blah blah - thanks for coming down and being a part of our festival.
BJS: Pleased to meetcha, blah blah blah - happy to do it, thanks for having me, purty place you have here.
[couple of more minutes later]
TW: Man, he's just so nice.
And he is. Just a helluva guy. He signed autographs for an hour after the show — didn't care what it was he signed, he was just kind enough to do it for about 200 people. Then he just left. "See yall next year." I can only hope.

Sunday, 4:00am: Holy effin' crap! How did it get so late? Where are the cops? They're usually here at midnight on the nose to shut the music down! Raz just wrapped up 30 minutes ago. I've gotta get some sleep.

Saturday, 9:30pm: My BBQ man pulls me to the side and shows me his newly-delivered stash of pure Texas moonshine. Well, hell yeah!, I took a slash. Smooth...very smooth. And another slash to top it off.

Friday, midnight: Davin James is absolutely positively blowing me away. This cat has got a future. Wearing green boots with big inlaid dice on them, playing some beautifully warped fusion of today's Texas music sound and 70s Marshall Tucker/Waylon Jennings/Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was simply awesome. I'm a full-bore convert. I want mutton-chop sideburns and some bell-bottom jeans. And a Flying Vee guitar.

Sunday, 10am: Bleary-eyed, three generic ibuprofens sloshing around in a pot of coffee inside my severely abused body, I roll down the hill to see what's happening. A group of hard-cores surround a cooler in golf carts and lawn chairs. They've been picking and singing all night long. How do people do that? Hell, yes, I want a breakfast burrito, but I'm too late. Mountains of trash. Dumpster's already full. Pile it on, brother...fill up the trucks. After that I just kind of wander around gathering trash in as many piles as I can. I found 8 shoes, and not a one matched another. Probably twenty busted camp chairs. Two broke-down tents. One broke-down awning. No broke-down cars or anything of value.