Now, where was I?

I'm still marveling at the Carl Edwards crash, as well as Edwards' ability to get out of a freshly destroyed car/plane and pull off a Ricky Bobby imitation with that jog to the finish line. And I'm almost caught up on sleep, although I will ask that you omit any incoherence (beyond that normal level of incoherence which you have come to expect from me, I mean). I will caution you that there's going to be a rambling quality to today's post, too, so you can change the channel if you can't stomach that kind of thing. Can't say that I blame you, really.

Aside: Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes put out some killer soul music back in the seventies, as my computer just proved with a serving of "Bad Luck." Just saying.

The familial unit is now back together, after my Talladega stint and a simultaneous old home place visit by The Lovely Missus, The Jakester, and Mama Dunn. I'm told the highlight of the visit for Jacob was seeing the goats and guard donkey at his Aunt Hazel and Uncle Wedsel's. ("Guard Donkey" would be a good name for a rock band, as Dave Barry would say.) Pics of said visit will appear here tomorrow.

TLM did say that it was hard to contemplate that quiet little Samson, Alabama was the scene of mass murder a few short weeks ago. Most everybody in that area knows everybody else, and is related to more than a few, so it's like somebody set off a grenade at a family reunion. (I'm not trying to make Samson into Mayberry. The town has its problems, as do all towns, and they're not solvable in 22-minute installments. I just figure that most readers grew up in towns with a population larger than roughly 2000, and might not understand the impact of the killings.) I've heard a rumor about an all-class reunion for Samson High grads this October, and I would imagine that if that does take place, it'll be an emotional one.

Moving on, I went back and did some totaling, and while I'm sure it's not a completely accurate count, I believe I've reviewed 162 acts for The Birmingham News. Considering how much of a music geek I am, I'm pretty thankful for those opportunities. I may have to recap a few of the best in that string, although I know that the most jaw-dropping performance I witnessed was the 2006 Drive-by Truckers/North Mississippi Allstars concert at the beautiful Alabama Theatre. When the Truckers' Jason Isbell (now a former Trucker), Patterson Hood, and Mike Cooley were joined by the Allstars' Luther Dickinson for an encore, I thought my face would melt from the guitar-shredding.

The strangest performance was The Lemonheads' appearance at Zydeco, when leader Evan Dando appeared to be as happy to be there as a pig at a barbecue, tried to walk off before his contractual obligation, came back for a few more listless songs, then did walk off. Won lots of fans' undying devotion that night, I'm sure.

The longest night (I think in some dimension, it's still going on) was the Bela Fleck and the Flecktones/Keller Williams/Yonder Mountain String Band performance at Oak Mountain Amphitheatre. (Technically, it's the Verizon Wireless Music Center Birmingham, but Verizon hasn't paid ME any money to refer to them in the venue's name.) All of them are outstanding musicians, but jam bands aren't my personal fave, and when I looked around at the paying public and saw more than a few sleepy looks, I knew it was a long night.

I think the only five-star ratings I've given were for one Truckers' concert (I've reviewed three or four), Alison Krauss and Union Station, Toby Keith (the man knows how to put on a show), and The Chieftains. There might be a few more, but not many. I figure that to earn a five-star rating, there can't be one weak spot in the whole night, and there's usually at least one in even great concerts. Sometimes, though, everything just comes together, and you get the feeling the singers and musicians couldn't blunder if you rubbed bacon on their guitar strings and slipped green persimmon juice in their throat spray.

Individually, I think the most virtuoso performance was by Robert Randolph, who can flat-out abuse a steel guitar, who also took turns on pretty much every instrument on stage and, I think, simultaneously ran one of the the tower spotlights and sold frozen lemonade in the cheap seats. The man's versatile.

There were some guilty pleasures, too. I'll admit grinning like a dead pig in the sunshine during the Poison/Cinderella concert at Oak Mountain. The lyrics are pretty puerile, but they're still goofy fun.

More on the music reviewing side tomorrow. If you're good, I may even tell you about my first-ever concert, way back about the time Adam and Eve got their eviction notice. I'll tease it with just two words: Pablo Cruise.

As always, please check out Retrosnark, follow my Tweets if you'd like, tell a friend or 12 about my places, become a fan on Facebook, and, if the mood strikes you, drop a penny or two in the tip jar up there at top left. I'd appreciate all five.