They could be the sunshine of my love, getting there from passing by sunflower fields forever. Or at least what would turn out to be back-to-back nights on stage in Stillwater. The venue for the band was The Freighthouse, and the freight coulda been bunches of bales of sunflowers. At least the falling rain would help them grow, in their playing, so we could be Sippin’ On Sunflowers. And to dip down well into Pierce County, the usual suspects strumming on Saturday night would be, well, The Usual Suspects.
They promised to be sunshine on a cloudy day, but when the rains came on Friday night, the last one […]