I’m not going to pretend to know the first thing about music, let alone the Austin music scene, but Saturday night at Antone’s was an experience I won’t forget in a hurry. The headliner Junior Brown played for almost two hours, a mixture of honky tonk, country, rock, blues and everything in between. At times it seemed as though he was channeling the Beach Boys, at other times Jimi Hendrix, as well as countless country-Western gods in between.

I overheard a couple of people in the crowd say they had never seen Antone’s so busy. Junior Brown is from Cottonwood, Arizona, but he made his name in Austin, Texas. So that could have been one of the reasons the club was so packed.

In case you’re wondering about that guitar, it’s called a guit-steel, and it was invented by Junior Brown in the mid-1980s. Apparently the design came to him in a dream.

I wasn’t going to spoil the evening by having my eyes glued to the back of a camera, so this video is by no means the highlights. It also suffers from a camera mic that can’t stand any form of bass. But I hope it is enough to make you want to check out Junior Brown’s albums and his touring schedule. I see he’s playing Amagansett, Long Island, on September 21.

When I left Antone’s around 1am the city was alive, the streets swarming with people, pedicabs, horse and carriages, and plenty of police officers. It was as busy as Times Square, only without the vulgar billboards. Definitely worth a return visit.

After a day shooting guns, what better way to unwind than with a little two step at The Broken Spoke, one of Austin’s most popular dance halls. Here I am with Broken Spoke owner James White and his son-in-law…from Manchester, England. I don’t think I need to explain who’s who.

I was trying to shoot this picture without being obvious. I’m gutted it came out blurry. But I think you get the idea.

I call this one: “The Gibson Bus.” Excuse the titles, I’m still learning. The singer, in case you’re wondering, is Jesse Dayton.

I couldn’t resist.

It’s rained every day since I arrived in Austin. The TV and radio are full of stories of flooding, rooftop rescues, and rising streams, rivers and lakes. Some parts of Texas nearby are being pelted with the same amount of rainfall in 24 hours—about 18 ins—as they would normally expect in one year. And yet I am in that strange situation where the only evidence I see of the flooding is on the news. In Austin itself, all I see is a gray sky and intermittent bursts of sunshine:

Central Texas is getting hit by more storms this morning, and the National Weather Service has put a large portion of Central Texas, including Travis, Hays and Williamson counties, under a flash flood warning until 11:15 a.m. The storms, which are moving in from the southwest, are expected to cause flash flooding and spread north throughout the morning. There’s another line of storms coming into the area from the northwest through the Hill Country.

[...]As of 6:45 this morning, Lake Travis was at 693.6 feet above sea level, which is 12 feet above what is considered full. The Lower Colorado River Authority, which regulates the flow of water through a series of dams on the Colorado River, says four floodgates are open at Mansfield Dam, which regulates Lake Travis. Three floodgates are open at Tom Miller Dam, which holds in Lake Austin.

One of the more unusual intros to a story:

First you get phone calls that seem kind of strange. Mom is quitting her bridge club because “they think I’m stealing from them.”

A week later, she mentions an old boyfriend from the war who’s coming to take her to dinner. You think, OK, it could be true.

Then the police call from her house. “Your mom thinks there’s someone hiding under her bed.”

Now you know. The forgetfulness, the fantasies, are dementia, Alzheimer’s, something like that. Your sister suspects the worst.

This isn’t just the story of one petite brunette with terrific legs who was called “Shorty” by her husband, granddaughters and daughters, including me.

This is the story of millions of Americans caring for elderly parents and maneuvering in the murky worlds of medicine, law, hospitals, nursing homes, guilt, fear and family ties.

Spotted in USA Today.

A song on the radio with the lyrics “Oh Lord I wish John Stetson made a heart instead of a hat.”

On the road again. This time headed for Austin, Texas, on another work project.

I’m really looking forward to seeing Texas again after our roadtrip from Houston to Big Bend to Marfa last year. I’m expecting tasty barbecue, great live music and lots of big hats.

If this work assignment is similar to the last one in England there won’t be too much spare time. But I do intend to make the most of it, and to find out why the city’s unofficial motto is “Keep Austin Weird.”