Finishing out their three-hour set at Louisville’s Waterfront Park, Jim James told us about a theory where there’s a version of you at every moment of your life still occupying places you’ve been. After going through an equally puzzling explanation of that theory, Jim simplified it for us: “Think about that the next time you’re out here throwing the frisbee — a part of you is still here with everyone else at this show.”

And what an affirmation of all the great energy in the air — a welcome last thought to a show that was all about the good of Louisville. However, looking back on it, that means that there’s still a part of me that’s stuck in traffic on the way to Louisville and a part of me that’s standing in a really, really long Will Call line. So maybe we’ll just focus on the part of me that’s still there watching My Morning Jacket.

I arrived late to the show after sitting in traffic behind an unfortunate accident. Sliding in during the second song, I snapped a few pictures of Jim before being ushered off to the side of the stage. The show was a great one, to be sure, but didn’t quite hit the levels that their Bonnaroo set did. It was more of a gift to Louisville rather than one of the greatest shows I’ve ever seen. Funny — I never thought I’d prefer a show after midnight, in the rain surrounded by thousands of sweaty fans to one in the cool evening with some perfect weather.

But it was a great show. The new songs still sound amazing live (“I’m Amazed” especially) and the old tunes played out great with a crowd of thousands who had spent years getting to know them. In truth it was the classics that got the loudest cheers from the people up front; though Z and Evil Urges material won the most universal acclaim.

In the end, I was just glad to be a part of a My Morning Jacket hometown show. I’ve spent the past two years missing trips, fumbling ticket situations and just generally not being a part of some of Kentucky’s greatest celebrations. But there I was: sitting on the grass with thousands of other people, watching My Morning Jacket, one of the world’s best bands who also happen to shop at Ear-X Tacy, drink Ale-8 and go to shows at Headliner’s.

Who would have thought that the Bluegrass would have given birth to some of the last real rock gods?