As we walked from the car to the expanse of blankets and folding chairs on the Upper City Park lawn, Denny asked me how I first heard about Michelle Shocked.  I thought hard about it, but I couldn’t remember.  My best guess is that I got a CD of hers from the Ames Public Library when I was 15 or so, before I could drive, when I spent a lot of summer days browsing through their music collection.  I’d check out whatever caught my eye, then jump on my bike, go home, and dub them to tape.  I discovered a lot of good music that way, actually.  I also discovered that Alice Cooper looks a lot more interesting than he is, but that’s true of a lot of people.

Michelle Shocked’s music has been part of my personal collection for over 15 years, I’m sure of it.  The true standouts like Michelle led me to the CD store (remember those?), and I purchased many of her albums.  It was a time when I was figuring out my personal taste, and I remember being surprised that so much of her music was country-inspired, when I was firmly anti-country and firmly into wearing flannel shirts over babydoll dresses.  It was unflattering then and it’s unflattering now, so don’t even try it.  And yet, country or not, Michelle Shocked’s music is so thoughtful and cheeky and righteous and fun and driving and hardcore and tender that I had to put my prejudices aside and just plain love her.

I chose a Michelle Shocked song for my senior dance recital solo, not one of her most heavy-hitting tunes, but the light and catchy “Cement Lament.”  I’m really glad I decided against the Macarena, which was also a finalist (to my credit, I heard it in Spain my junior year, and it hadn’t hit in the U.S. yet).

Fast forward a decade and a half or so:  I keep an eye on michelleshocked.com for tour information, and when I saw that she was playing a show in my fair city, I was so excited.  If she had ever played a show in Iowa, I didn’t know about it, and this one was perfect.  It was free, in a park, and in the late afternoon, so it worked great for my personal schedule and child situation.  But even if it hadn’t been so convenient, I would have found a way to go.  I don’t actually enjoy concerts very much, most of the time.  They’re too loud, people stand in front of me, and a lot of times bands are disappointing live.  But Michelle Shocked would be worth it, I was sure.

I was totally right.

She played many of the songs of hers I love the most, such as “Anchorage” and “Graffiti Limbo.”  I sang along as loud as I could when she asked the audience to sing, even though it seemed like I was the only one.  She played practically the whole Short Sharp Shocked album, my all-time favorite of hers, and after the show when I produced it for her to sign, she seemed pleased that I’d brought it.  I thanked her in all those silly, trite ways you thank someone who influenced you without ever meeting you.  She was cool about it.  I probably sounded like a dork.

She’s committed to affordable health care for all.  Hey, so am I!  She also suggested that parents do ridiculous things now and then to keep the kids on their toes.  I do stupid crap all the time!

It was a really intimate, stripped-down show, with just her on guitar and vocals and a bass player, and another guitar player who joined her for a couple of songs.  It wasn’t wussy, though—she can shriek and holler and rock out with her pick out better than most people two decades younger.

If you have a chance to see her, you really oughtta.  Even Miles had fun, mostly because it was at a park with playground equipment, and Denny took him to play on it while I boogied.