No, the Country Band, pastured on Lummi Island, will never be famous.  But if they can’t get you to shed a tear in your beer, ignite a fire from that ember you call a heart, or just shuttle your sh*t kickers onto the dance floor then someone ought to tell them.   So load up your rig with young and old and anything in between, come on down and get your limit.  See if you can scope Aaron’s original decoys from the time-tested classics by the likes of Merle Haggard, Dale Watson, George Strait, etc., not stuffed and mounted for posterity but thriving in a natural environment.  (The music will start hushed as a horse-breaker during dinner hours and progress to rodeo levels as the night goes on.)