Bobby "Blue" Bland - "Lovin' Blues". Bobby "Blue" Bland died yesterday. I saw him sing a few years ago, at the blues festival in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. His voice was still astounding and free. Maybe not as supple as in his youth but it flowed over his songs with the same astounding swiftness, as if it were melted butter. Still, my clearest memory of the show was the interest Bobby "Blue" showed in a young woman sitting beside me, with her boyfriend, in the press pit. The woman was wearing a skirt. She sat with her legs straight ahead of her. Her ankles were not always crossed. And every now and then, as she shifted, Bobby "Blue" saw her underpants, I guess. He'd see them, and he'd stop a song right in the middle of a verse, holding his hand to his head as if he had a fever, swearing, saying, "Girl, you're gonna kill me right here." His tone of voice wasn't lecherous, predatory - it was this strange mixture of happiness and despair. "Girl, you're gonna kill me right here," he kept repeating, every time the girl uncrossed her legs. Then he'd lean forward to stare deep into the eyes of the woman's boyfriend. "You gotta keep your eyes on the merchandise," Bobby "Blue" advised him. He must have thought this was good advice. The boyfriend didn't know what to do. But the young woman was smiling; she liked causing spells. Bobby "Blue" kept singing his lovesongs and blues, mopping his head, threatening to die on the spot from the sight of a pretty girl.