A sampling of the things I saw at the Masonic show on Thursday night.

The Continental Club, which is like the South-Austin-Hipster 78704 Mecca. (I had never been, clearly I am just now officially cool.) Elvis on a postcard. A green Kangol hat. Jack Daniels. K-dog. A snooty brown sweater who seemed offended when I lit her cigarette (it’s just professional habit, lady, ease down). One of the guys from Spoon (Kev pointed him out). Tall boots, everywhere. Red curls, beautiful. Shiner Bock. Rye-bread. swagger. American People, the opening act, who looked like what the Partidge Family Band would be like if none of the Partidge family had anything in common and didn’t even like each other (They were great). Black Lipstick, unloading. black lipstick. Baby Newsum. More Jack Daniel’s, Kev told me to get a sponsor (he was just kidding MOM). Great Bathroom Graffitti, which isn’t a band name but should be.

And, oh yeah, a killer Masonic show. Those guys rock. They also roll. Big fun.