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Willie Nelson: Still Crazy After All These Years

By Ryan Gorsche & J. Lawrence Scholer | Monday, February 4, 2002

Durham, New Hampshire—two hours from Hanover, minutes from the Seacoast, and home to the University of New Hampshire. The Whittemore Center, although not directly affiliated with UNH, sits on campus. It is the usual home for UNH hockey; tonight Willie Nelson and Family are on ice.

The crowd consists of a collection of the elderly and a handful of UNH students. Many of the UNH students, though, work out at the indoor track on the other side of the complex.

The doors do not open until eight and the ticket area is packed by seven. The smell of Stetson cologne and Brut aftershave mixed with the stale smoke of Marlboro Lights that lingers on Carhartt jackets overpowers the senses. On all sides there are Willie look-alikes—unshaven men with leathery, weather-beaten skin and long hair, some in cowboy boots. Some may even have run into trouble with the tax-man. Next to a Willie, there is a Kenny Rogers, the paradigm of male handsomeness among the Camaro-driving, Miller High Life-drinking, night shift-working American populace. (Kenny Rogers will perform at Meadowbrook Farms on August 11.)

At 8:05 a man appears on the stage—the crowd is getting jumpy. It isn't Willie—this man is much too large. He is a representative of WOKQ, the local country station and sponsor of the show. He gives a plug for Willie's new book, Facts of Life, and his new album, Brand of Honor. Exactly eight minutes later, Willie appears in a black cowboy hat, red bandana, a black T-shirt and jeans, and New Balance 990 Series sneakers.

Willie opens with 'Whiskey River,' and a giant Texas flag drops behind him. The crowd remains seated, a striking difference from when Willie performs in Texas. This is New Hampshire—where is the Texas pride? However, one woman with large blond hair spastically jitters and jumps. Throughout the show, she runs to the stage and bestows gifts on Willie, including a hat and what appear to be oversized pink underwear. The fortyish women next us—reeking of booze—are low-key, barely smiling when Willie takes the stage.

The sedate crowd does not respond in the upbeat 'Willie way,' and the family picks up the mood with the fast 'Good-Hearted Woman,' a song Willie wrote with Waylon Jennings, who recently lost a foot to diabetes. This is not a full-fledged party, although the crowd bubbles with enthusiasm when Willie croons 'Crazy.' The mood of the evening was one of relaxed enjoyment, with adults and children alike nodding to the rhythm.

Perhaps in deference to the majority of the crowd and also to Merle Haggard, who was born in a boxcar in Oildale, California, Willie and the Family perform 'Working Man's Blues.' The blues of Merle Haggard, the quintessential working man, extend to more than paychecks and punch cards, but to the infamous solitary confinement of San Quentin Federal Penitentiary and a life that, according to Haggard, was one of 'arrest, incarceration, escape, and recapture.' Each member of family has a solo jam in tribute to Merle.

The crowd lacks energy, and the most telling sign comes during the performance of 'Me and Paul.' 'I wrote a song about me and Paul,' Willie says to begin the number. At this point, a member of the audience usually shouts out, 'What'd you call it?' Willie responds with 'I called it 'Me and Paul'' and he begins singing, the band frantically trying to catch up with the vocals. Tonight the crowd is silent—perhaps wrought in the music, forgetting what has become an American institution.

As the concert progresses, members of the audience make their way to the stage and leave gifts for Willie—notes, hats, and T-shirts. Willie acknowledges each devoted and generous fan with a wink and a wave. Sometimes Willie returns the favor, tossing his hats and bandanas (four or five of each) to expectant hands. Willie plays to the crowd, blowing kisses to love-struck women and smiling at the children parents hold to the stage.

Willie continues to play his classics—'Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain,' 'Georgia on My Mind,' 'On the Road Again.' He then gives an encore performance of 'Whiskey River,' and this time an American flag unfurls behind him, covering the old Lonestar. Following this, Willie transitions to some of his new material and also performs cover songs. He does a blues set, featuring 'Milk Cow Blues,' a hit from his recent album of the same name. Before playing the blues, Willie puts down Trigger, his worn Martin six-string, and takes up a blues guitar.

Willie makes an appeal to the younger crowd, playing 'What Condition My Condition is In,' the Kenny Rogers' classic re-popularized by the hit movie the Big Lebowski. Tributes to country legends continue with a few throwbacks from Hank Williams.

The crowd sings with Willie during the Williams covers, including 'Hey Good-Looking,' but then the mood becomes more tender as Willie plays 'The Rainbow Connection,' originally performed by Kermit the Frog in 1979.

After a few hours of performing Willie's voice remains strong, and it seems like he could continue into the early hours of the morning. However, it is not to be, and Willie, always a prankster, pretends to leave the stage. He never made it. He returns and continues the performance, giving the crowd a few more tunes to consummate the evening. The crowd, sensing the end, gathers at the foot of the stage, urging Willie to put his heart and soul in these final jams. Willie obliges.

The crowd becomes jubilant when Willie performs 'I Saw the Light.' Willie points heavenward, and the crowd leaps and hoots as if this were an old-fashioned revival. Drunk on the music and the Spirit, the crowd reaches a state of excitement like no other during the concert.

Willie signals the end of the show when he raises Trigger, his guitar, and thanks the audience for their kind attention. While the music may have ended, Willie remains on stage to sign autographs—shirts, hats, books, boots. He does not leave until all his fans are sated.

Young and old enjoy the performance, although both express their satisfaction in distinct ways. The older crowd is content to sit back and relax, remembering the old days when the Red-Headed Stranger was not yet gray. Some of the older men doze as the concert continues towards midnight—hours past their bedtimes. Many of the youth gather in groups and danced as if it were some kind of Phish concert. While the majority in attendance do not scorn these out-of-place youth, their behavior is looked upon with skeptical faces and questioning eyes. No doubt many of the traditional and conservative folk, recalling the days when such unsupervised dancing was scorned, view this as some kind of drug-fueled bacchanalia. Whether their assumptions are founded is not determined as the police maintain a laissez-faire attitude throughout.

The Whittemore Center will host the Women's Frozen Four and will later play host to 311 with Hoobastank opening. For those not in the know, Hoobastank is a band very similar to Incubus—whatever that means.

Willie and the Family ventured far from Texas on their tour of the Northeast, and any homesickness is not evident in Durham. While Willie and the Family give all those in the Whittemore Center an eclectic mix bluesy riffs, honky tonk, and popular ballads, it is pure Willie gold.