It's always by my side. In the car, on the stage, atop my kitchen counter, on the floor beside my hotel bed. It holds big bundles of my life. Dollar bills dumped out of my fishbowl tip jar for sorting and counting after a show's tear down, lip gloss and mascara, cell phone and keys, batteries and Band-aids, and extra guitar picks.

But it was the pitchforks that brought me here. I was providing the background music for the Pitchfork Steak Fondue for six nights during my “Blame It On Where I Grew Up” tour. On this first night, I sang what I thought might be the crowd’s favorite country songs, along with a couple of my originals that, hopefully, will also become their favorites. More than 1,100 people chatted like old friends in line as they inched closer to the steak, skewered on a pitchfork