A Night With Willie Nelson

So on my last night I in Denver I got a phone call that changed my life. It was from my new favorite person, Joe Hickle. Young Joseph informed me that he had second row tickets to the Willie Nelson concert that was taking place on my first night back in Tucson. He then asked if I would like to go with him, my older brother Luke and our pleasantly plump friend, William Mordka to the concert. Naturally I said yes as quickly as possible. What transpired was one of the best nights I’ve had in some time. Here’s a few highlights from my night with Willie Nelson.

- Willie was playing at one of the Indian casinos here in Tucson, I found this humorous for several reasons. One being that Willie Nelson, the consummate cowboy, was playing at a place which sole purpose is to drive in revenue for Indians. Kinda of ironic. Secondly, he wasn’t even playing at one of the better casinos in town, which also made me laugh. In other news, I have the mental make up of a 10 year old with a gambling problem.
- My brother and I decide we’ll know at least 50% of the songs Willie will play. He opens with “Whiskey River”, so far so good.
- While in lines for beverages, we quickly decide that Willie has far and away the ugliest fan group of any musician, ever. After racking our brains we can’t thing of a single other band or artist who could even come close to this groups, um, looks. I’m not trying to be mean, but the majority of Willie’s fans resembled retired carnies.
- Willie introduces us to the bands piano player, his sister Bobbi. Apparently Bobbi is famous for falling asleep during sets while Willie talks to the crowd. After her introduction Bobbi, who looks paler then an albino, whips the crowd into a frenzy with a saloon style piano solo. We have a serious conversation about whether or not Bobbi is a robot.
- 6 songs in and “Whiskey River” is the only song I’ve fully recognized. I think to myself that my musical historian chops aren’t nearly as good as I thought.
- Willie flips the script on us and plays 4 straight songs of Stardust, all of which I know and love. Thanks Willie.
- On my way to the bathroom I stop by the merchandise stand. I see a bandana I can’t live without. The only question now is whether I put it my arm or my head.*
- Through out the show, audience members keep wandering up to the stage and setting things down at Willie feet. Strangely, this all seems completely natural. Some people put pictures of Willie, which he’ll sign and give back to them. Other people just want to see him up close. Security never interferes with the people who approach Willie. One guy gives Willie his cowboy hat, which Willie immediately puts on. A few songs later, a woman who was at least 65, takes her bra off and then throws it on stage. Willie, being the kind gentlemen he is, then gives this lady the hat he was wearing. I was left speechless by this whole occurrence.
- The guy who gave Willie his hat, which Willie subsequently gave to the lady who gave him her bra, goes over to the lady who is now in possession of his hat. After some pleading the guy regains possession of his hat. Needless to say, all of us were very upset by this chain of events. After some discuss we decide that once you throw an object on stage you’ve lost possession rights to that object. Therefore, cowboy hat guy no longer had any claim to his hat once he chucked it on stage. This guy was a huge douche and should never have asked for his hat back, he broke ‘throwing things on stage etiquette’. This was probably the only down side of the concert.
- Willie takes us home with a series of country classics, the best being his rendition of “You Were Always on My Mind”. Just an amazing show. Willie has to be the most approachable musician I’ve ever seen. He truly appreciates his fans and still loves playing music. Either that or he’s just extremely permafried.
- Instead of leaving the stage after his set, Willie sticks around to shake hands with the fans who have rushed to the front of the stage. He’s also signing autographs the entire time. My brother and I rush up to the stage like 12 year olds girls at a Color Me Badd concert. Willie shakes my brother’s hands and gives it a squeeze for good measure. For some reason the hand I was lifting towards Willie was the one which was holding my beer. I’d like to say that it had something to do with the fact that I was running on four hours of sleep and had been traveling all day or that I was drunk, but neither of these excuses would be true. I just happen to be an absent minded person. Anyhow, my brain fart turned out to be a stroke of genius. After Willie shook my brother’s hand, he grabs the beer bottle out of mine. Willie looks at it for a second, takes a swig from it, signs it and then hands it back to me. Needless to say, this was probably the coolest thing to ever happen to me, at least at a concert.
- As we were leaving, I go into a bathroom stall and placed the signed bottle in my pants. I didn’t want to risk security not letting me out with the bottle. You just never know what kind of power tripping a-hole is working security at an Indian Casino. I then awkwardly walked to the car and placed the bottle in the trunk of our car. We then finished off the night with some blackjack. Good times, good times.

So to recap, seeing Willie Nelson live is awesome. Having Willie Nelson drink from and sign your beer bottle is even more awesome. I am awesome.

In closing, I think I’ll take a Charlie Murphy quote out of context, because it best sums up this while night. Take it away Charlie:

“I mean there’s some great storytellers in the world today, but who the hell could make up that sh*t?”

Not I Charlie, not I.

Until We Meet Again.
* Semi-obscure ‘Real Cancun’ reference.

A Copy of My Living Will

So I’ve made it to Denver and outside of the never ending snow, everything’s going great. I’ve yet to find a job and my Arizona Wildcats are now plunging into oblivion, but my spirits are still high. That said I can’t help but feel like this is the end of the line for me. The last person to live in the house I now call home vacated the premises because she thought she was getting carbon monoxide poisoning. And if the carbon monoxide doesn’t kill me, then Marcus Williams’s insistence on trying to take over at the end of games will*. So since my death is likely imminent, I’m submitting to all of you my living will. Know that I love you all.

To My Friends and Family:

I, Calvin Paradise, declare this my final will and testament. My brother/editor Luke Paradise will be the executor of this will. In this will you find instructions for what to with all of my earthly possessions. Good luck and God Bless.

To My Brother Max I leave: My iPod, my Nintendo DS and my jeans. While on earth we were pretty much each others doppelgangers, I want you to remember that I was the more attractive one. Yeah that’s right, I can still fit (sort of) into size 32 jeans. And I’ve totally seen more naked chicks then you**. Boyah brother, boyah.

To My Brother Luke I leave: My pre-recorded toast to play at his wedding. I also leave him all my shirts, since he’s always “borrowing” them and then never returning them.

To My Brother Jordan I leave: My memoir entitled “How to Be Awesome”. This book will teach you all you need to know and then some. God Speed, brother.

To My Sister Abby I leave: A $25 gift certificate to Applebee’s, because we never got to get dinner before I left for Denver and subsequently died. I also wish to spend some of my left over money to buy a “Thelma and Louise” DVD for her and her ‘best friend’ Ashley. Don’t ask.

To My Parents I leave: My love as well as my student loans, sorry.

To My ‘boy’ Sam I leave: My permanent residence in my parent’s house, since he’s there more often then anyone who actually lives there, I figure we should make it official. (Sorry again Mom and Dad)

To My ‘bro’ Billy I leave: A framed, signed photo of my ass. And a nice sturdy chair to sit in.

To My ‘homey’ Jake I leave: My running shoes, get your ass into shape and into the Coast Guard.

To My ‘brosif’ Joe I leave: My starting Point Guard (or is it two-guard?) position on Team Mankind.

To My ‘Main Man’ Travis I leave: My little black book***.

To My ‘friend’ Aaron I leave: My gambling addiction, may it treat you better then it did me.

To Jimmy Asdell I leave: My position on Team Mankind. Hopefully this makes up for all the times you got cut in High School.

To Adam “Heartbreak” Stidham I leave: All the sad songs I’ve ever written. May you achieve your dream of becoming the next Chris Carrabba.

To All the Women in My Life: I think I left all of you more then enough. My apologies to all the men who have to follow in my foot steps.

To Everyone Who Didn’t Get Mentioned: Know that you don’t need any materialistic thing to remember me by, because I live on in your hearts. You can all get together several times a week to sing my praises and talk about how great I was. I loved you all. I’ll leave you now with the immortal words of Babe Ruth from “Sandlot”: Heroes get remembered, but legends (like Calvin) never die.

Peace, Love, The Gap.

- Calvin Blake Paradise (1985-2007)

Note to overly-sensitive readers: This was meant as a joke. I don’t wish to or plan on dying anytime in the near future. For those of you who don’t think faux living wills are funny then you seriously need to examine your life, because you’re probably not funny.

Note to all my friends who were mentioned and that I most likely offended: I’m so very sorry, I was trying to be funny. I love and miss you all.

Until We Meet Again

* This has no place in this post, but please allow me to rant about the current state of Arizona basketball. Our program has not won a meaningful game since the 2005 Sweet Sixteen. The current team refuses to get over the hump, it’s like someone told them that a single digit lose counts the same as a win. They’re the biggest group of teases I’ve ever seen. This team is currently shooting horrendously, so they play just enough defense to keep the game close so they can make a run at the end that will fall short. I can’t take it anymore. It’s literally driving me insane. I can’t stop thinking about games in which I have absolutely no power in determining the outcome. For those of you reading this who aren’t U of A fans, let me tell you it’s one of the worst mistakes you can make in your life. It’s like willing signing up for 5+ months of mental, emotional, spiritual and at times physical torture. That said I wouldn’t change my affiliation/obsession for the world. I still have faith in Lute and I still have faith in this team. Bear Down.
** This is only true if there’s a way to see a negative number of naked chicks. Bear Down.
*** My actual black book, not that sh*tty Britney Murphy movie… Bear Down.