He also said that he had seen Chris Isaacs in the audience earlier. Isaacs had told Owens that “he had a funny coat on.” Owens returned the dig by telling Isaacs that his coat looked like “a pizza coat. Got pastramis on it.” While Owens’ latter look may have been toned down, his fans complimented each other on their authentic retro country attire. “Nice shirt” and “cool buckle” could be heard as people filed in, as the opening act, a Bob Wills style country swing band called Red Meat, played their set. I even got props for my Vans––a pair of slip-on surfer shoes, but with an Evel Kneival style print of red, white and blue stars and stripes that could pass as an ode to Owens’ famous guitar. The crowd was ebullient, if all over the place age wise, as the 74 year old cruised through five classic numbers, ending with the rollicking “Tiger By The Tail,” before slowing it down for his heartbreaking transnational unrequited love ballad, “Made In Japan.”

By the time Owens et al (and a masterful et al at that––especially Terry Cristofferson, Buck’s lead guitar and pedal steel guy) got through song #20, it didn’t matter what Owens was wearing. What his all-American telecaster didn’t say for him, his haunted, chiseled, rarified look made up for. The aw golly visage of his Hee Haw days were put aside and it appeared that he had returned to his (I imagine) virile days of youth (when still a kid he passed for an adult, making his living in those Southwestern honky tonks). When the band got around to their Bruce Springsteen cover of “Pink Cadillac,” I realized that I had never before understood the utter raunchiness of that song. Buck and his new duet compatriot, Kim McAbee, slid up against each other’s backsides with a vigor that would have made up for all the bad Viagra commercials ever produced.