Posted By Kent McMillan on 11/30/2008 at 11:57 PM

I just got back from a combination business trip and Thanksgiving holiday in a part of Texas about 400 miles West of Austin. Unfortunately, due to a confidentiality agreement, I can't divulge many of the details of the business end except to say that it was to drive around a ranch with a prospective client.

I can however mention that this particular client is a musician who has made enough of a pile of money off the degenerate lifestyles of Louisiana and Mississippi to afford a pretty big ranch in West Texas. However, her name will have to remain undisclosed in this account seeing as how I'm sworn to secrecy.

I can tell you that Thanksgiving in Fort Davis was great as always, the weather sunny and beautiful.

On Friday, I met this client in a town about twenty miles South of Fort Davis and we drove out to look at a ranch that she was seriously thinking about buying. "Cool truck!" she said as I held the door open. I figured that it didn't hurt a bit either that I had a couple of her albums in the console, but as we got rolling down the highway, she went for one of the John Coltrane.

"Say," she asked, "mind if I play this?"

"Just eject what's in there now," I said as one of her CD's slid out of the player.

"So, you listenin' to me and Coltrane, huh?"

I suppose I could have mentioned the Joan Osborne album that was also toward the back of the CD box, but I knew from experience that it was probably better to let the client do the talking.

"Yeah," I said.

It turned out that she knew quite a bit about John Coltrane, certainly a heckuva lot more than I would have bet. I kept the truck pointed down the highway to the ranch as she fired into a freeform monologue that wound through his life and times.

The ranch she had in mind was actually a pretty nice place. It was (subject to determination by survey) twenty sections of what looked like fairly decent pasture.