I stopped and stretched as I looked around. It didn't seem like the sort of museum I would imagine for Buddy Holly but not everyone liked him either.I...secured my helmet and jacket to the bike and went up to pay my $1 and look at the birthplace of Buddy Holly. I was less than impressed. Sure, they had the obligatory childhood pictures but it just didn't seem like a good representation of someone who set the music industry on its collective ear way back when.Disappointed, I saddled up and left. "You must be Dan. I'm Courtney, Don's wife." I smiled and nodded at her, too stunned to immediately speak. She took my windbreaker, and led me into the kitchen. It was one of those wonderful California kitchens, all light and air and room to manuever. A huge butcher-block counter dominated the middle of the room, complete with a working stove and ample room to prepare meals. An opened bottle of rose wine was on the counter, and she offered me a glass."Thank you, no" I said. "I'm not much of a. More

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