Tres Leches

“Got milk?” asked my dinner companion, “Tres Leches.” It was all sort of a blur because someplace (Madison Square Garden, perchance?) an athletic team from South Texas was trying to make some history. And, across the street from where we were dining, Junior Brown was going to play — and I had some tickets. It was alternating between rain and sun all day long, as the Neighbor observed, “The Devil is beating his wife — rain and sun.” Then, it seemed to clear up some in the afternoon. But not a lot. I did get rained on at the same time as the sun was shining. Then it was dinner time, during the game, after the dessert of “three milks,” we sauntered across the street to wander into the Continental Club. The opening act was from San Antonio, and they would take breaks between their songs to get an update on the game. “We just played in San Antonio, and the Spurs kicked our ass,” the band confided. At the final seconds of play, a great cheer arose. Junior Brown came on about midnight. He plays a “Guit–Steel” doublenecked, custom-built guitar that’s half electric guitar and half steel guitar. Some sort of strange hybrid, and it’s certainly a weird sound. He’s fun to watch with a rich, deep voice, straw cowboy hat and furiously flying fingers as he alternated between the two necks. He used to be a regular a the Continental club, back before he got famous and on TV — or is it on TV and got famous? In either case, it was chance to see some him in a rather intimate setting.