@AndyShore Saturday was my day to see Mayer Hawthorne & the County, after much anticipation and at least one failed attempt. There was no scheduling conflict this time. I was finally going to see the funky Jew that Zack has been raving about. It was time to let my inner soul child run rampant at ACL. We saw a dude standing next to us gobbling a massive brownie, as we waited for the show to start. I saw a chunk of the brownie fall into the grass. The kid picked it up and popped it into his mouth. My first thought, which I vocalized, was there was drugs in that brownie. The kid’s friend overheard my comment and corrected me. He said the kid got fucked up, and then decided to purchase and eat a regular, every day brownie. That’s why he was eating it so hilariously. No drugs in that recipe.
Mayer Hawthorne’s recipe relies on a healthy dose of soul, with a dash of funk and a pinch of cool. Sinatra cool. Dude is a pro. Hailing from Ann Arbor, Michigan, Hawthorne grew up in Motown’s backyard. He took notes and paid attention to his elders. His banter was witty and introduced his songs perfectly. He told the crowd he’d gone to Waterloo to check out some vinyl (instantly winning him points with the crowd). Hawthorne said someone recognized him, to his surprise, and asked for an autograph. As Hawthorne was about to put pen to paper the fan asked, “you’re Michael Buble, right?” To which he replied “Maybe So, Maybe No.”
Posted from 38,010 feet.