Notes from the Road – The Age of Entitlement

Notes from the Road – The Age of Entitlement

When I’m off the road and working at home on new material, recording, rehearsing, etc., I spend some time trying to work through piles of stuff that I collect at conferences and other places, reading what seems useful and tossing out what isn’t.  In a pile of material from past Folk Alliance conferences past I came across the May/June 2009 Issue of Elmore Magazine.  I took a few minutes to scan the pages and let me tell you, this is a rag worth taking a look at!  Check them out at www.ElmoreMagazine.com.

A couple of articles particularly caught my attention as they dealt with subjects that fall into my “pet peeves” or “personal soapbox” categories.  First was the regular column of Carl Gustafson, “Kickin’ in Your Stall” titled “the unwarping of entitlement.”  The theme of the piece is a rant about what we as a culture now expect from life, i.e., what we think life at a minimum owes us in today’s world.  He points out that in our modern society we enjoy unparalleled comforts and conveniences (the crummiest jalopy sure beats a horse; there is no such thing as wearing hand-me-downs these days; etc.).  In his words: “Our culture is a fireworks display of opulence and arrogance that would retro-stun the imagination of every two-legged creature back to Adam or amoeba, depending on your beliefs.”

Gustafson doesn’t feel much sympathy for folks in general in this economic climate.  In his view, the average musician has always been and always will be an expert at surviving in lean times (a constant condition for them) by managing expectations.  “I hear radio interviews where some poor bastard is crying that he has to take a job beneath his education level in order to get by.  Of course to him get by means not having to sell his boat, second car, lake cabin and having his kids actually work to get through college.  It may, God forbid, mean 13-year-old Suzy-Q has to keep the gap in her teeth until she’s old enough to get her own job and doesn’t get that boob-job that’s been the fashion these days for a graduation present.”  Tough words, but there’s a whole lot of truth in them.  I’m constantly shocked at the number of kids driving new expensive cars in high school and college that their parents obviously bought for them, setting a standard of living for them that the economy may not support in coming years.  And, people that I know don’t have the cash resources are living in houses, driving cars, dining at restaurants and taking trips that I know has to be going on plastic or some other form of “maybe someday I can pay for it, but right now I want it” currency.

There was a time when a good life was having the opportunity, with hard work, to support a family with food on the table and a roof over head (even if it was only one or two rooms) that didn’t leak.  Everything else was a plus.  Now it’s iPods, iPads, iPhones, HDTV connected to a vast array of cable or satellite gathered channels, stylish new cars (financed or leased), large houses (even the smallest hovel is grand compared to what was the norm 75 years ago), foreign vacations, Starbucks coffee, smoothies and name brand clothes.  Anything less is considered abject poverty and cause for serious depression / shame / anger / blame.

This sense of entitlement is revealed in our general tendency to avoid responsibility and look to others, principally the government, to extract us from the mess we, at least in some significant part, created for ourselves and to blame others, principally the government and anyone financially successful, for whatever financial distress we experience.  We borrowed 120% of the value of the house we were buying when any idiot with a command of third grade math could tell that when the payments reached their peak we would not be able to make them based on our income.  But when that day came it was, of course, the bank’s fault for lending us too much money.  We make choices and are largely unwilling to pay the price of those choices.  We are Enititled.  Our own government, both parties, tells us that the solution to our current recession (I think it’s a depression, but what do I know) is freeing up credit so we can borrow more and buy more.  Maybe I’m just an idiot, but isn’t that how we got here in the first place?

I’m as guilty as the next – I’ve clung far too much to material things over the years and I’m trying mightily to cure myself.  Fortunately I kicked the debt addiction in the last economic malaise we weathered and don’t have that monkey riding my back this time around.  Now I’m in the process of shearing down my burden of accumulated stuff, most of which I never needed in the first place – extra music gear, hobby gear (fishing rods by the bundle, etc.) and other assorted “driftwood” I’ve picked up along the way.  I’m trying to simplify, economize and focus on those things which are truly important and preserve those things which I truly value.

The second article in Elmore dovetails with the first and actually ties into my recent musings on the treatment of original or unfamiliar music by today’s society.  In “I Me Mine – The Economic Incentive Plan,” Alex Lyras berates the digital phenomena of “free music” as one of the symptoms of our “Entitlement culture.”  He argues that the immediate gratification of digital music available for theft through file sharing platforms and simple copying has devalued music as an art form.  While I see many benefits of the digital age of music in terms of the ability of artists to have their music heard without the backing of the commercial music industry, Lyras strikes a chord with me on the “ripping and burning” phenomena that impacts independent artists on an even greater scale than it does the monied music mainstream which has taken legal action to try to stop it.  I hope we all know better than to file share artists’ music on the internet or burn copies of their CDs for friends, family and neighbors.

Where Lyras connects with my prior musings on society’s trend to be indifferent towards music that hasn’t been played ad nauseum on commercial radio is when he quotes some philosophers that before now had escaped my attention.  Adorno and Horkheimer, key members of the Frankfurt School, coined the term “culture industry” in their book Dialectic of Enlightenment, 'The Culture Industry: Enlightenment as Mass Deception' in 1944.  Lyras explains their theory “. . . that popular culture was manufacturing standardized entertainment to manipulate the hoi poloi (us!) into complacency; the easier it is to consume these popular pleasures, the more docile and content we all become.  They admonished that mass produced products posed a direct threat to the higher arts by manufacturing false desires (“creating demand”) that mass produced, standardized products could then satisfy.  The toxic side effect is an atrophied sense of quality.”  WOW!  Now THAT says a mouthful to me and, to a large extent, provides an attractive, though tragic, answer to my question posed at the outset of my ponderings on original music - What is it that makes original music less instead of more?  DISCLAIMER: this is still NOT intended to apply to those exceptional classic songs and traditional folk songs we all know and love.  To the extent they arose out of the “Culture Industry,” let’s just say that even a blind pig finds an acorn now and then!

Lyras drives his point home with a quote from Chrissie Hynde, the leader of the rock / new wave band The Pretenders.  “Rock used to be a secret between the artist and the audience.  Now, it’s turned into a sport.  Musicians are hitting gyms because image is more important than content.”   I think we’ve all seen that happening in many, many phases of the arts – and in society in general.  We have become a very image, appearance conscious crowd as a whole.  That’s one thing I admire about nudists – they accept each other as they are without hiding behind adornments, disguises and facades.

In any event, Elmore Magazine is definitely recommended reading.  It covers the art of music across all genres (except, perhaps classical, opera, etc.) and is bi-monthly (six issues for $18).  Another new music magazine, available only on line, is Driftwood Magazine (http://driftwoodmagazine.com).  This comes from the former editors of Dirty Linen, a great print magazine which seems to have gone down the tubes.  Driftwood is heavy on music reviews in folk, world, roots, alternative, rock, and indie music.  I’ve just gotten my first weekly digest edition which features an article on Cheryl Wheeler and reviews of releases by Audrey Auld, Grant-Lee Phillips, Peter Case, The String Cheese Incident and Tom Fisch.  Subscription is (at this point) free so check it out.

Doug
"It's not how far you've come, it's what you've done with the miles"

Doug Spears

36 Interlaken Road

Orlando, Florida 32804
407-257-4242

dcsnole@yahoo.com

www.dougspearsmusic.com
www.reverbnation.com/dougspears
www.concertsinyourhome.net/artists/dougspears
www.youtube.com/nativetroubadour
www.facebook.com/dougspears
www.myspace.com/dougspears
www.sonicbids.com/dougspears

INTERESTING FLORIDA FACTS:

 

·        There are 882 islands or “keys” in the Florida Keys which are large enough to be recorded on the maps of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey.

·        The total recorded length of all streams in the Sunshine State is 10,550miles. 

·        The St. Johns River is the longest river in Florida. Its length is recorded variously as 273 miles long (U.S. Geological Survey) to 318 miles long (State Board of Conservation). The reason for this confusion is that the river’s headwaters are so ill-defined that it is impossible to determine with any certainty the river’s point of origin.

 ·        Florida has 4,510 islands ten acres or larger in size, which is the second highest total in the United States.  Only Alaska has more islands.

What is it that makes original music less instead of more?

Notes from the Road – What is it that makes original music less instead of more?

One of the things I contemplated as I traveled from gig to gig on this most recent tour is the reluctance or disinterest of the general public when it comes to seeking out or listening to new original music. In this context I’m using the term “original music” to mean music written by the performer which has not received extensive commercial radio play and is, therefore, generally unfamiliar to the listener – i.e., new, different, etc. In those gigs I played which were not true listening rooms (places people come to listen to music, not just to talk and drink) I invariably had someone ask if I played any songs by (insert name of mainstream artist whose songs are played twice in any given hour on commercial radio). The answer is, of course, “I can, but I don’t.” It’s not what I do or what I have of value to share with an audience.

Now, in the folk music tradition I would understand this completely if it were a case of people wanting to participate, sing along, dance, etc. However, that wasn’t the case. These requests generally came from folks who were listening to the music “with one ear” while socializing, etc.

It seems to me that the majority of our society has come to treat music unlike any other art form. Whereas we will not usually read the same poem 20 times in a week, watch the same movie 20 times in a month, read the same book 20 times in a year or sit and carefully absorb the same painting or photograph 20 times in our lifetime, we will routinely listen to the same song or group of songs multiple times in a single day and then go out to hear “live music” hoping to hear those very same songs performed by someone else who will make them sound exactly the same as what was on the radio. Even then we don’t stop and listen to it to the music, but continue our conversations over it as loudly as necessary to relegate it to mere white noise in the background. Why is that?

Why is “live music” in a venue considered preferable when it simply consists of a commercial radio playlist performed by a band which may or may not perform it well? Why do people prefer venues with live music when they go primarily to drink and socialize rarely focusing on the music itself? Why not just have the radio on, a jukebox or karaoke in the corner?

Now, don’t get me wrong – I love the work of Jimmy Buffett, James Taylor, The Eagles, Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard and the current parade of performing songwriters of that ilk (those that truly are songwriters) as much as anyone. I’ve spent my share of time playing their songs for loud disinterested bar crowds too. And, I begrudge them nothing of their financial success – good for them, truly! But at some point it begins to feel like commercial radio, Nashville and the established music industry (emphasis on “industry”) has trained us as a society to behave as sheep. They tell us what to listen to, determine for us what is “good” and who has “talent,” and we simply swallow that without leaving room for anything else, i.e., the independent artist plying his craft on the back roads, in the small listening rooms and house concerts. We sit at home in our Lay-Z-Boys in front of our flat screen TVs and computers while the art, the true art, of live acoustic music passes us by.

Are we, at this point, simply a culture with an ever-shrinking attention span and increasing disinterest in music that doesn't immediately explain itself or with which we aren’t nauseatingly familiar as a consequence of continuous bombardment at the direction of a radio culture driven solely by sponsor dollars and the record industry’s dictates? I am a big fan of a large number of singer-songwriters whose CDs I own or whose mp3s are on my iPod. As much as I enjoy those songs I don’t listen to them multiple times in a month. And, I’m always most excited to hear something new from that artist. However, I seem to be in a diminishing minority in that regard and I suspect I’m preaching to the choir here inasmuch as those of you reading this are likely fans of the same music I am for the much same reasons.

Why is it that fewer and fewer people come out to hear something fresh and new in smaller, more intimate concerts by enormous songwriting talents like Chuck Brodsky, Jonathon Byrd, Jack Williams, Michael Smith, Cheryl Wheeler, etc. at a mere $10 - $25 per ticket when they continue to pay $65 - $125 and more to hear music they’ve heard incessantly on the radio being blasted at them in an arena with crummy acoustics in the midst of 10,000 screaming people who aren’t truly listening?

I’m observing, as I know all independent artists are, diminishing audiences, CD sales, etc. And, to the extent that I’m just not reaching people’s hearts and minds with my music so be it – that’s part of the deal and I have no complaints. However, since I get such gratifying feedback after every performance and I see it happening to artists, like the small sample I’ve listed above, whose work is so good that there is simply no debating the quality of what they offer, the smaller audiences, etc. must be the result of musical apathy or lethargy. Of course, the economy has its substantial effect, but it seems that money for the monthly house concert or small venue outings gets cut long before the daily smoothie, Starbucks latte and big name concert tickets. I find that disappointing, even disheartening.

What do you think? I’d love to hear your thoughts. It seems in these troubled economic times the trend would be different. It looks like people would be connecting to the grassroots, back road music that is out there. Let me hear from you!

All the Best –

Doug
"It's not how far you've come, it's what you've done with the miles"
Doug Spears
36 Interlaken Road
Orlando, Florida 32804
407-257-4242
dcsnole@yahoo.com
www.dougspearsmusic.com
www.reverbnation.com/dougspears
www.concertsinyourhome.net/artists/dougspears
www.facebook.com/dougspears
www.myspace.com/dougspears
www.sonicbids.com/dougspears
INTERESTING FLORIDA FACTS:
 
·There are 882 islands or “keys” in the Florida Keys which are large enough to be recorded on the maps of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey.
·The total recorded length of all streams in the Sunshine State is 10,550miles. 
·The St. Johns River is the longest river in Florida. Its length is recorded variously as 273 miles long (U.S. Geological Survey) to 318 miles long (State Board of Conservation). The reason for this confusion is that the river’s headwaters are so ill-defined that it is impossible to determine with any certainty the river’s point of origin.
 ·Florida has 4,510 islands ten acres or larger in size, which is the second highest total in the United States.  Only Alaska has more islands.

Notes from the Road – Schedule for Fall / Winter 2010

Now that the SE Summer Tour is over I've emptied the travel trailer and am sealing it up for a couple of months.  I have no more camper friendly events until the Sunshine State Music Camp in November where I'll teach songwriting for the third year.  However, I have plenty of shows on the calendar between now and the end of the year and I will be adding more.  Check and see if any of these are in your neck o' da' woods and get it on your calendar.





I will be headed out to Mountain View, Arkansas in mid-October for the Southeast Region Folk Alliance Conference.  I was an official showcase artist last year out there and don't know what my status on that count is this year.  However, I already have a full plate of private showcases booked and I'm looking forward to the trip.  I've been working on bookings after I leave Mountain View and head east.  I'm hoping to pick up something for Sunday night, perhaps in Memphis or Nashville and probably hang around Nashville on Monday.  On Tuesday I'll pick up Judy at the Tri-City airport outside of Johnson City, TN and we'll head to Mount Mitchell for a couple of days in the peak of the leaf change with friends who live there.  I've got a Wednesday gig there in Burnsville at the Mt. Mitchell Country Club.  For my return engagement, Chef Teo has planned a Florida Cracker dinner program in a separate dining area and my show will follow the meal - an ideal set up!  Friday we head down to Saluda for my return to The Saluda Inn and Wine Cellar.  This is a much better date and Joni is very pleased to have me returning for the fall season.  Saturday night is tentatively scheduled as a house concert in northern Georgia, but it is not confirmed as yet.

In November I head back out to Texas.  I'm waiting for my schedule to firm up before booking my flights so I know whether it makes more sense to fly into Houston or Austin.  Two shows are confirmed and several more are in the works.  The weekend days are not hard to book, its the week nights that are tough.  However, I have a number of musician buddies out there working on those and I'm looking for some "Dinner and a Song" gigs as well.

"Dinner and a Song" is the name put to smaller weekday house concerts by Fran Snyder of Concerts in Your Home.  Essentially, it is a brief, relaxing dinner gathering that feature music and conversation with a traveling artist. The host gathers 8 - 15 attendees for a low-effort dinner, followed by a short, unplugged concert in the living room. Attendees donate $5-10 each for the artist and also have the opportunity to purchase CDs after the performance. The host provides dinner and overnight lodging (guest room, etc.) for the artist.

Dinner and Song is perfect for you if: 1) you love the idea of house concerts but feel your space or number of friends is too small; 2)you’d like to have dinner parties but need a “Wow!” reason to do it; or, 3)you’d like to support traveling musicians and see them perform in a special environment - your house. These events are designed to minimize setup and preparation, so that you can have a wonderful, low-stress event on a weeknight - lasting only 90 minutes from start to finish.

I've done a number of this type show here in Florida over the years and am always available for them when I'm in your area. If you're anywhere near my routes of travel and would be interested in hosting a Dinner and a Song evening with me just let me know.  I'm a firm believer that its the quality of your audience, not the quantity which comprises it, that makes a show rewarding.

I left September open in my schedule intentionally.  Preparing for conferences like SERFA is a time consuming process.  I'll be recording a demo of some new songs at Gatorbone with Lis & Lon Williamson in September for Ron Litschauer to combine and master with some existing material.  This will be something fresh for me to give presenters and Folk DJs not only in Arkansas, but also in Memphis in February 2011.  Plus, there's writing, working on the presentation of new material, updating websites, preparing PR releases and all that other stuff that comes in between the joyous opportunities to share some songs with you guys.

So, that's how things sit for now.  Let me hear from you if you have shows you'd like for me to be part of in the coming months and on into 2011.  I'm always booking and looking for the next new gig.  Don't be shy!  And please stay in touch!

Doug
"It's not how far you've come, it's what you've done with the miles"
Doug Spears
36 Interlaken Road
Orlando, Florida 32804
407-257-4242
dcsnole@yahoo.com
www.dougspearsmusic.com
www.reverbnation.com/dougspears
www.concertsinyourhome.net/artists/dougspears
www.facebook.com/dougspears
www.myspace.com/dougspears
www.sonicbids.com/dougspears

Notes from the Road – The Journey Home

Saturday, August 14, 2010 –

And so it ends – another Southeastern US Gas Hog Tour is complete.  No flat tires or serious issues (other than that camper leak which it appears I’ve plugged) and some great shows with friends old and new.  You can’t ask for much more than that.

I woke this morning ready to get underway.  Even as the coffee is brewing I’m putting things away and getting the interior of the camper road ready.  By 10 am I’m hooked up and ready to travel.  On the way back from Asheville last night I put a couple of gallons of pricey NC gas in the tank, just enough to get me over into SC where I know prices will be 15 to 20 cents per gallon cheaper.

I roll southeast out of Hendersonville on I-26 and in less than a half hour I’m in South Carolina.  It’s cloudy, but not rainy, a pretty good day for driving.  Sure enough, gas in SC is $2.47 as opposed to $2.66 just 40 miles back.  I stop and top off the tank and motor on across South Carolina.  I usually play a show on this route in SC either in the St. George area or up near Columbia, but bookings didn’t work out for that this year.  All of the town names are familiar and I don’t need the Navagatrix to get me home from here.  However, I keep her tracking my progress with the sound off so I can gauge where I might want to stop for the night.  Because it’s slow going with the camper it would take me about 10 hours to get all the way home and that’s farther than I usually like to run in one day while towing the big rig.  Nevertheless, I’d like to get as close as possible so that I have as much of Sunday to recoup as I can.

Much of the time on the road I ride in silence.  It’s almost like meditation for me.  I can let my mind focus solely on the road and shut everything else out.  Or, I can mull over a single subject at a time – booking for upcoming months, song ideas, lyric refinements, stuff at home, etc.  Silence is a valuable thing to me and long distance driving affords me that luxury when I’m out on the road alone.

However, sometimes you need some tunes.  And, I’ve had great ones to listen to on this trip.  In the CD player has been The Claire Lynch Band “Whatcha Gonna Do”, Lis Williamson “Deep”, a collection of tunes by Frank Serio, photographer extraordinaire who has had the opportunity to co-write with many great writers, 3 Penny Acre’s new disc “Highway 71”, Stevie Coyle’s solo release “Ten-In-One” and some compilation CDs for variety.  On the iPod I’ve had Bill Morrissey (what an extraordinary writer), the new Merle Haggard CD “I Am What I Am” which I recommend, Jorma Kaukonen “River of Time” and “Blue Country Heart” (exceptional), smatterings of Guy Clark, Johnsmith, Jack Williams, Jonathon Byrd, Cheryl Wheeler, Allison Kraus, Mary Chapin Carpenter, all favorites of mine, and many more.  Song ideas, rhythms and melodies begin to percolate and I periodically turn off the music to sing into my little digital recorder I keep handy just for such inspirations

The haul across South Carolina is a long one.  You’re basically starting up in the northwest corner and driving all the way across to the southeast corner, so it takes a bit.  But the drive is easy, though traffic around Columbia gets a bit dicey.  And, of course, anytime someone pulls over for any reason everyone else has to slow to 20 mph and rubber neck hoping to get a glimpse of a gory wreck of some kind.  Rubber necking ought to be a capital offense with serious jail time attached!  However, I’m soon on I-95 and bearing down on Savannah.  Time to fill up again before crossing over into Georgia.

I roll on through the tidewater area of South Carolina with its vast expanses of waterways, grasses, birds and trees.  It’s about 3:00 or so as I approach Savannah and I know from past experience it’ll be 4 1/2 to 5 hours from there home at the “towing the camper” rate of speed, a lumbering 60 mph.  I’ll be in Jacksonville in 2 ½ hours.  I’m starting to think that stopping just 2 or 3 hours from home, incurring campground fees, etc. makes little sense.  Plus, I’d love to get all the way today, sleep at home tonight, see the family and have all day Sunday to rest.  Hmmmmm . . ..

Georgia’s on my mind as I roll I-95 through the Peach State.  My gas mileage is much improved as I’m now on relatively flat Interstate.  Back roads are much more interesting to drive, but when you want to get on home the Interstate is the way to go.  However, even with the convenience, speed and ease of the Interstate as a plus, the overwhelming collage of billboards is still irritating.  While I understand the economic, advertising value of billboards they are nevertheless a blight on mankind as a whole!  Georgia and Florida in particular have an over abundance of them that swallows the view like kudzu swallows the landscape.  No wonder folks never really see the true Florida!

As I pass Brunswick, Ga. my mind is made up – I’m going to tough it out and roll on to Orlando tonight!  It’s been a long day and my back and knees are complaining, but I just can’t see stopping when I’m going to be so close.  Onward!

I cross into Florida and breeze through Jacksonville.  Now I’m really on the home stretch.  A fast food dinner keeps me plowing ahead as I pass St. Augustine, Palm Coast, Ormond and Daytona where I connect with I-4 and turn southwest.  I’ve pushed the cruise control up to 65 mph. sacrificing gas mileage for speed.  DeLand, Deltona and Sanford slip by and I’m now about 30 mins from home sweet home.  My pessimistic side creeps in for a moment as I wonder if any of the trailer tires will decide that this is far enough and blow out causing me to have to change one in my exhausted and edging up on irritable condition.  However, I roll on through Lake Mary, Longwood and Altamonte without incident and turn off on Fairbanks.  I pull into my driveway just before 9 pm road weary, but so glad to be home.  And, I receive the welcome from family that I looked forward to so much.  A scotch is in my imminent future!

As I say, it was a good tour.  I did note the effect of the economy on the size of the audiences, their spending habits in terms of CDs, etc. and the availability of booking opportunities.  While I did better than break even financially, I earned substantially less than last year.  Part of that is due to my own failings in getting my booking done early resulting in a larger number of high risk gigs money-wise than should have been on the schedule.  Lesson learned.  However, I added many, many new names to my mailing list, sold more than 50 CDs’ and broke into new venues and areas where I had not previously played.  I was healthy for the whole trip.  Judy and the grandsons got to join me for part of it.  The weather, though warmer than desirable, was mostly good.  I had no calamitous events with either the truck or the camper despite covering better than 3,800 miles of at times challenging terrain.  And, I got to enjoy to true beauty, wonder and freedom of the southeast portion of this great country that we live in.  You know, the more I think about it, it was a GREAT tour!  See you down the road.

Notes from the Road – Wednesday, August 11th – Friday, August 13th

Wednesday –

Wednesday I start by sleeping until almost 9 am – man, did I need that!  I made a disturbing observation just as I was leaving Stone Mountain yesterday.  The inner edge of my front left tire on the truck is starting to show the belts of the radial through the rubber – not good.  It was causing me some heartburn as I drove that hat full of hairpins on Hwy 80 yesterday getting down to Dick & Joyce’s place.  So, first item on the agenda today (after coffee and homemade blueberry / cranberry scones of course) is to get into Burnsville and find a tire.

Dick volunteers to join me and we decide on a proper agenda.  First we’ll drop off my sound gear at Teo’s where I’ll be playing tonight.  Next we’ll find me a tire in Burnsville and have lunch.  Then we’ll come back and play 9 holes of golf.  Sounds like a plan.

Teo is at the restaurant already and directs me to my spot for the evening.  I set up my Fishman SoloAmp in short order all the while chatting with Teo.  Having learned of our tire mission, Teo recommends a local tire store on SR 19 just before entering Burnsville proper.  Dick is skeptical as he is more inclined to go to a “chain” type establishment, but I’m game so off we go.

The tire store is perfect.  All four of my tires are worn, but only the one is to the point of needing to be replaced.  The rest still have many miles of good tread remaining.  I’ve been struggling to figure out the most logical way to do this replacement and I’ve been considering replacing both front tires, keeping the right front tire as the spare (my spare is pretty worn).  This will, however, involve a fair expense (around $300 or more for two tires) and will require that we unload the luggage area to get to the compartment where you drop the spare tire from beneath the vehicle (a real pain).  However, the tire guy has a better solution.  He has used tires for sale as well as new and he quickly finds one in great shape that matches the ones on the truck.  He has it mounted, balanced and I’m on my way in short order.  And get this - $18!  Yep, calamity averted and logistical issue solved for less than a Jackson, can you believe it?

In fact the tire cost only slightly more than lunch.  We had some great sandwiches and a bucketful of iced tea on the covered porch of a little joint off the town square in Burnsville.  Burnsville is a quaint little town with “antique” shops (some verging on the junk shop variety), local sundries and mountain crafts stores.  It’s nice and comfortable as the sky is overcast and there’s been a sprinkling of rain.  Soon we’re headed back up the mountain for a little golf.

I don’t have golf clubs or anything with me so Dick loans me a shirt and I don shorts and tennis shoes.  He and I will play out of his bag (a technical course rules violation, but Dick’s not one to be hampered by such trivial matters).  Though I’ve not swung a club in nearly three years I actually strike the ball fairly well and end up paring 4 out of the 9 holes.  We won’t dwell on the other 5.  It has warmed up considerably and by the time we finish I’ve soaked Dick’s loaned shirt to the point that I recommend burning rather than washing.

A quick shower and down to Teo’s for the evening show.  We’ve had trouble deciding on a time as the likely crowd is bifurcated early and late.  There are folks there who’ve come specifically to hear me at 6 pm so I get started.  Now this, again, is not a pure listening environment by any means.  There is a bar and supper is being served so there is a bit of traffic and noise to contend with.  But those that are there for the music are able to find seats closer to me and hold down the fort to minimize distractions.  For about 1 ½ hours I play through my intended set list taking requests here and there from folks familiar with my music.  CDs leave the table and names are added to my mailing list.  I take a break around 7:30 and the entire crowd (with a couple of exceptions) changes over.  Well, what the hell – I run back through some of the same songs (favorites like Yellow Butter Moon, etc.) and add about 70% different tunes than those I played in the first long set.  By a around 9:30 I am toast!  Over some protests from the crowd I put down the guitar for good and settle at the bar for a scotch and a much needed steak.  More CDs leave with new owners as I chat with folks while I down my supper and enjoy the hospitality of Teo’s generous bar staff.  In the end as the crowd dwindles I decide to leave the sound gear until tomorrow and just take my guitar with me as I steer toward a comfortable bed.  See you tomorrow.

Thursday

I’m up early (not so over served in the drink department last night as I was the night before) and do a little internet research to find a spot to call home for my last two gigs of the tour in Saluda and Asheville.  I settle on a likely spot near Hendersonville and, after retrieving the sound gear from Teo’s, saying my goodbyes and hitching to the camper I swing north and west through Burnsville (to avoid that freakin’ Hwy 80) and catch I-26 south through Asheville.  It only takes me about an hour and a half to get to my new location and I’m soon settled in on site with the afternoon to rest, recoup and restring.

Tonight I’m at the Saluda Inn & Wine Cellar which, according to the Navigatrix, is a mere 20 minutes away.  I’m to start at 7 pm, so I make sure I eat by 5 (some left over chicken and black beans with rice) and head out at 5:30.  The Saluda Inn & Wine Cellar is a really cool little venue.  Joanie, the proprietress, shows me around and suggests the best location for my gear.  The Inn, upstairs, is a huge old frame house that now serves as a B&B.  The Wine Cellar, as you might guess, is underneath and features rough hewn stone walls, wine racks and misc shelving with a collection of odds and ends, including a vintage whiskey still in one corner.  It won’t hold many people, maybe 50 if everyone likes each other, but the charm of the place is irresistible.  My SoloAmp is ideal for this type environment and I’m all set in short order.

Now this is Thursday night and though she offers music most Thursdays Joanie has warned me in advance that the crowd may be a little thin.  I’ve assured her it’s no problem as this was a late booking to fill a date cancelled by another venue so I’m grateful for the opportunity to get in front of some new folks and the small gig fee.  At just before 7 folks begin to appear and soon we have a decent little crowd.  As has been my experience there are two couples in the room from Florida (St. Pete area and Sarasota) who immediately tune into selections from my Florida based repertoire and the crowd as a whole is quite receptive and responsive.  This is again not a pure listening room environment and a good bit of social chatter goes on during the show, but it does not distract from the material.  It’s a good night, particularly for a late booked gig, and Joanie is a gracious host who is anxious to have me back on a weekend night when she can gather more of a crowd for me.  If you’re ever in Saluda, NC stop by The Wine Cellar and tell Joanie I sent you.

By the time I return to the campground it’s about 10:30 so I settle in with a last glass of wine and read a bit before turning in.  A lazy, reorganization day tomorrow before my last gig in Asheville.  Aahhhhhh . . .

Friday

I keep waking up real early, too early, and then managing to fall back asleep.  I don’t actually get up to make coffee this morning until about 8.  It’s a little overcast outside so it’s not immediately hot – maybe I’ll go fish a little.  Naw, coffee and a movie sounds better.

I get the camper cleaned up, dishes done, etc.  Then it’s time for lunch and a nap – tough schedule huh?  Tonight I’m at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge and for those of you not familiar with the Asheville area, no, this is not a house of ill repute that just happens to offer live music.  The French Broad River runs through Asheville, hence the name of this famous local sweet spot that serves all manner of chocolates, coffees, teas, beers and wines.  This is another late booked filler gig after a cancellation.  Cancellations were a real problem with this tour as the economy and other factors forced many venues / hosts to change plans on short notice.

Though I’ve heard of the Chocolate Lounge I’ve never been there and really don’t know what to expect.  I’m to play from 8 to 10 so I get there by around 7 to load in.  The Lounge is on Lexington in a bustling part of the downtown night scene in Asheville and parking is difficult.  I end up about three blocks away, not ideal.  The room is long and narrow with an upstairs balcony area.  The chocolates are in a case along the left of the room with area for the servers behind it and ending at the cash register about halfway back.  Seating fills the rest of the space and I’ll be up front in the right corner near the door.  There is a line of customers about 20 long at the counter as I set up and I’m told by the staff that the line will continue at that length and much greater all night, sometimes spilling out into the street in front.  Interesting.  Obviously, not an ideal listening environment, but we’ll see.

At 8 pm, as promised by the staff, the line is all the way to the front door and folks are starting to “pool” in the area where I’m to perform.  But, they make way as I pick up the guitar and start hitting the first few notes.  It is an interesting dynamic.  While the entire room, including the balcony, can hear the music and respond with applause, the folks most engaged by the music are those in line.  Imagine performing at the check in area for Southwest Airlines and you’ve got a fair estimation of the gig.  The audience is in constant flux, but as they stand in line they have time to hear a couple of tunes, look over the CDs, mailing list sheet, etc.  Some then find a seat to hear more while others move on out the door.  It is another opportunity to simply focus on the technique and presentation of the songs themselves without the patter and story telling that usually accompanies them.  What I first had strong reservations about turns into a very enjoyable, unique gig and the staff is both very complimentary and very attentive about keeping me supplied with water, wine, etc.  When I finish at 10 the manager tells me they’ve had a great night, in part he thinks to the advertising they did regarding my appearance there, and he doubles my gig fee – nice!  Not too much in the way of CD sales, but folks have been showing their appreciation at the tip jar helping to fund the trip home here at the end of the 4th annual Gas Hog Tour.

Instead of making a couple of trips three blocks away with the gear I get everything ready to load and then bring the car up to a no loading zone outside to load up – hey, if you can’t break some rules here and there what’s the point in having them!  I’m on my way in short order and after adding a little expensive NC gas to the tank to get me into SC tomorrow where prices are better arrive at the campground at around 11 pm.

Tomorrow I begin the journey home and reflect on these three weeks on the road.  Stay tuned.

Notes from the Road – Saturday, August 7th - Tuesday, August 10th

Thursday -

I didn’t sleep as well last night as I’d have liked.  That usually happens the first night away from Judy sleeping alone again.  I have dishes to do and some other cleaning / maintenance to attend to, but I can’t seem to muster the energy.  So, by 11 a.m. I give up and get on the road.  Tonight I’m “barnstorming” at a campground in southern Virginia a couple of hours away.

It’s an easy drive, Interstates all the way.  Near Roanoke I see a sign for BBQ and give into temptation.  It’s not very convenient, in a strip center with a grocery store, etc., but it turns out well worth it.  3 Pigs Barbeque is the name and they make all their own sauces, ketchup, etc.  It has a music theme and it appears they have live music on the weekends.  It’s a small place, probably seats no more than 50 people and I don’t know where they’d set up the musicians, but given the quality of the food, service, etc. I’m sure they’ve got it worked out.

Parking the camper in this kind of a place is tricky.  The SUV with the 24’ trailer, plus a hitch carrier on the back of that is a good bit longer than two parking spaces end to end.  So, I found a curb spot on the drive that led behind the building.  When I’d finished my BBQ I discovered that the drive behind the building did not come out the other side.  Fortunately I’m pretty good at backing and it was a simple matter to roll back far enough to make the turn and get on my way, though I noticed folks with cars around me looked plenty nervous.

With the lunch stop I was still at the new campground before 2 pm.  It’s a spare looking little place, but it looks quite full.  I get checked in and settle into the spot they’d reserved for me down on the pond near the pavilion where I’ll be playing tonight.  It is a long, perfectly level site so I don’t even have to unhook – perfect.  Plug in the power, connect the water hose and I’m all set.

I noticed coming in that there was a whole passel of those little teardrop shaped mini-campers in the park and out of curiosity I wander up (with some flyers for the show tonight in my pocket, of course) to see what’s going on.  It turns out that it’s a rally for teardrop camper owners – a group calling themselves the “Tear Jerkers” – cute.  If you’re not familiar with teardrop campers, google them to see what I mean.  Many of these little units are homemade / custom made and I’m not talking about rough, slipshod work either.  Some are made from sailboat quality teak with fine varnished finishes.  The ingenuity applied to accessorize these little units is incredible.  Storage compartments, pop out cooking areas, dressing booths, canopies and awnings, etc. were quite amazing.  I was surprised to learn that these campers began being manufactured back just after WWII.  In fact there was one metal unit with wide white sidewall tires and matching spare that was made in 1947.  There were about 50 of these gathered for the rally and they were having a supper just before my show – excellent!

After a little rest I go ahead and do laundry (I’m past due on this) and clean the camper up a bit.  Then I go ahead and set up for the show before the Tear Jerkers get started on their supper so I can be ready to go as soon as their function ends to keep as many of them as possible to hear the music.  My Fishman SoloAmp is so easy to set up it only takes me about 15 minutes.  Then I clear out to rest up a bit, take a shower and get my mind on the set list.

I’m lucky and a good portion of the Tear Jerkers stay behind for the show.  It’s a good friendly crowd and I give ‘em an hour and a half of my Florida folk and songs about other parts of the country as well.  Again, CDs depart with new owners and the gas hog tour gets funded for a few more miles.  Has I known about the Tear Jerkers I would have tried to come up with a novelty song about them – that would have KILLED!  But, we all had a good time.

Just as I was finishing up with Steam Train a new member joined the audience.  He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.  When I was done he called out to me – it was Bill Clayton, folk singer from Sanford, FL!  The world just keeps getting smaller.  He was on his way with his wife up to see her family in Ohio and just happened to stop in at this campground for the night.  He was quite surprised to see the posters advertising my show.  We chatted and caught up a bit as I started to pack my gear.  But, as we both had early starts in mind we kept it short and soon I’m settled back in the camper for the evening.  Ahhhhhh . . .

Sunday –

The fact that I have no hooking up to do to leave makes me quite lazy this morning.  I think about doing a little fishing, but its pretty hot out so I just lounge in the AC, write a little, watch a movie, etc.  Well, Sundays are supposed to be a day of rest anyway, right?

I’ve got a short run up to my next campground show near Appomatox, Va. where Lee surrendered to Grant.  I get started by late morning and take it slow and easy enjoying the scenery and stopping to take in some historical sights along the way.  Again, I’m at the campground by 2 p.m.  This is a nice family campground of fair size.  In addition to the standard pool there’s a lake with a swimming area, diving platforms, slide, etc.  Posters promoting my performance are prominently displayed throughout the grounds and the young lady at the desk is all set to direct me to my site.  This site is a little too far from the pavilion where I’ll be playing tonight to haul the gear over on foot, so I go ahead and unhook so I can use the truck.

After a nap and some other loafing, I go on over and set up my gear.  They have a raised stage at one end of the pavilion with an open concrete floor in front and picnic tables around the perimeter, pretty nice.  As before it doesn’t take me long to get everything ready to go, including my CD table, etc.  All I have to do at show time is step up, plug in and play.

One drawback to this campground is that there’s no internet access and no cell phone reception.  I need to make a couple of calls, one to Judy since I haven’t checked in on her today, so I head out in the truck in search of a cell phone signal.  Heading back west towards Lynchburg I’ve soon got three bars and make my calls.  The I head back to rest a little and take a shower before 7:30 pm.

At 7:30 I step up and begin adjusting sound.  A few folks have gathered and as the guitar rings through the SoloAmp more emerge from their cars and campers and filter over.  I quickly conclude that I’ve made one miscalculation.  The sun is quickly setting behind me to the left, but for the moment it is shining right into the open concrete area in front of the stage.  As a result, everyone sits on the benches around the perimeter or in chairs on the grass and many drive up in golf carts and remain seated in them.  This means that I’m a good 30 feet from the closest audience members and as much as 45 from the folks straight in front of me.  That’s too far for the intimate type show that I like to do – can’t see their eyes.  However, it would take too long to move down on the floor closer to them so I carry on as is.  Again everyone enjoys the show and exhibit their appreciation with generous contributions to the gas hog tour fund and take home some CDs.  Back on the “it’s a small world” theme, one couple is from Gainesville up visiting their daughter in Lynchburg.  They particularly enjoy the stories and songs of Florida.

Tomorrow I turn south towards North Carolina.  I’ve got a couple of days before my next show at the restaurant at the Mount Mitchell Golf Course where’re I’ll be spending a couple of nights with old friends.  I have some computer work to do so I’ll bite off about half of the drive tomorrow and the rest on Tuesday.  So, tonight I think I’ll ice down some amber whiskey and stroll the campground a bit before turning in.

Monday –

I thought this was going to be a two day posting originally, but internet and cell reception in southern Va. and North Carolina are a rare and finicky thing.  So, I’ve added Monday here and hope I get to post it Tuesday.  I’m in no hurry today as I have no show tonight or tomorrow.  And, since I’ve got no internet connection I can’t do the usual site maintenance and booking work I’d otherwise be doing.  I think I’ll go fishing.

My first cup of coffee in hand I stroll down to the fishing lake here at the campground at about 6:30 a.m.  There’s an older couple down on the dock fishing already and, unfortunately, they’ve got a yappy little dog with them.  He doesn’t like that I’m using the lake too even though I’m a hundred yards away.  Fortunately, the man doesn’t care for his yappiness any more than I do and is effective at shutting him up – they’ve apparently had this discussion before and the dog does not care to debate it again.  Not much in the way of fish, but it sure is pretty and peaceful.  The sun hasn’t broken yet and there’s a fine layer of fog just off the surface of the water.  In just a couple of hours it will be the country version of Wet N’ Wild here as the kids swarm in to swim and play.  Summer’s almost over.

Back at the camper I do write a little, work on a couple of song ideas, design some promo pieces – that kind of thing.  I should get going, but the road isn’t appealing just yet.  More coffee.

Finally about noon I head out.  I have no particular destination in mind, I just want to get down into NC and within striking distance of Burnsville.  That’s where I’ll be staying Tuesday and Wednesday nights, playing at the Mount Mitchell Golf Club Wednesday night.  I’d like to find a nice State Park as they are always quiet, peaceful, pretty and cheaper than private campgrounds.  After stopping for a little late lunch at a McDonalds where I can use their WiFi I settle on Stone Mountain State Park north and west of Winston-Salem and set the Navigatrix accordingly.

Now, I wasn’t in any particular rush, but I was thinking I’d get to the campground by early to mid-afternoon and enjoy the day.  I also thought (don’t know why) that I’d have cell reception high in the NC mountains somewhat near larger towns.  I was wrong on both counts.  I finally rolled into the park (the long way around, through the unpaved rear entrance – thanks Navigatrix) at just after 4 pm., barely in time to check in before the office closed.  And I found, of course, that there was no cell reception to be had.  This was an issue since I needed to contact my friends in Burnsville about arrangements for Tuesday and Wednesday.  So, after getting set up on my site (surprisingly warm for high in the Blue Ridge Mountains) and cooling my feet in the mountain stream running beside it (nice!) I headed back out in search of cell reception.  I finally found it about 20 miles down the mountain and made my calls (to answering machines of course, meaning I’ll have to do this again to get the responses).

By the time I got gas, got back to the campsite, changed clothes, got a fire started, etc. it was 7:30 pm.  However, a campfire and an amber liquid are magical in their ability to bring on quick bliss.  I soon had a chicken breast broiling over the wood fire and some yellow rice and collard greens warming on the stove.  Very domestic dontcha think?  As the daylight fades the cicadas begin their chorus in the trees and bats begin their aerobatic maneuvers devouring mosquitoes.  Life is good.  After supper I have a little more of the amber and work on some guitar techniques I’ve been toying with.  Song ideas flow and the fire crackles.  However, before I know it it’s after 10 pm and the mosquitoes are starting to get quite bold in their attacks.  I either need to get out the bug juice or retreat.  Given the hour I elect retreat and settle into the camper for the night surrounded by the sounds of the mountain stream, cicadas and a gentle breeze rustling the leaves.  Not bad, not bad at all.

Tuesday –

Well, still no consistent cell or internet reception so I guess this is a four day journal.  From Stone Mountain I’m headed to the home of my friends Dick and Joyce Adams who have a house on the Golf Course at Mount Mitchell.  Dick has arranged a show for me down at the golf course restaurant Wednesday night and I’m going to spend a couple of nights with them.  I know from past experience that the Navigatrix tends to take me to their house by a tortuous mountain road with sharp switchbacks and steep grades so I’m trying to avoid that.  However, I’m at a disadvantage since I can’t recall which road it is that is so bad.  To out fox the Navigatrix I set her to take me to a town that I think will dissuade her from the mischief of selecting the usual road.  But, she’s smarter than me.  Soon I find myself on Highway 80 approaching Mt. Mitchell from the south, just as always.  The car groans and the trailer shrieks with each hairpin turn and evil grade – truly hell on wheels.  I make it however, tough some worse for the wear.  Sure am glad I’m not playing tonight!

Dick and Joyce’s house is up the mountain from the golf course which sits right on Highway 80.  So, I turn in to make the last hard climb.  There is an abandoned roadway just past the turn down to their house and we plan to park the camper there.  This is not the kind of place that gets much idle traffic or crime (other than a little moonshining and perhaps a bit of poaching) so the trailer will be nice and safe.  One last little tough steep stretch of blacktop and I’m able to pop it in reverse and swing the trailer right into its graveled space on the abandoned road.  Apparently I startled a skunk in the brush with the trailer because the fragrance is strong and unmistakable when I get out to unhitch.  The old Ford is well relieved to be shed of its 6,000 lb. burden and rolls exhausted back down the hill to the house.  Personally, I’m ready for a drink.

And, my host delivers.  Dick is off running an errand, but Joyce is at the ready with a cool glass of nerve tonic – just what the doctor ordered.  Golfers parade past on the 14th fairway, bisected by a nice rocky river, and the 14th green which the house overlooks.  Quite a view from the front porch where Joyce and I sit with our drinks near the hummingbird feeders and her freshly weeded flower garden.  I doesn’t take long before the trauma of Highway 80 inflicted upon me by the mischievous Navigatrix is far in the past.  Dick returns and we sit catching up on all the news, old friends and general BS until its time to consider supper.

The restaurant at the Golf Course, Teo’s, is having a “low country boil” tonight, which means shrimp, crab, sausage, corn, potatoes, etc., all you can eat.  Our appetites sufficiently whetted by our early libations we descend to the restaurant and wait for the starting bell of the feed.  I’ve printed up postcards for the show tomorrow and Joyce goes to work on the crowd making sure they know that they should return to hear me the next night.  We’ve also given a passel of them to the golf course to put on each cart that goes out tomorrow.  We’re working hard because Wednesday is usually a slow night and we want to see if we can’t create a draw.

Soon the food is ready and the crowd flows into the dining room to sit at long tables covered in newspaper a heavily supplied with napkins.  Peeling shrimp and cracking crabs is messy work.  The food comes in waves and we fall on it like ferrets – I’m surprised no one lost a finger!  It’s REALLY good and there is much discussion about the show tomorrow.  We eat ‘til we are near bursting and then repair to the bar for more lies and whiskey.  On the whiskey end I freely acknowledge that I have been over served.  By the time we head back up the mountain I am completely inebriated and quite ready for some horizontal examination of the insides of my eyelids.  And so I say a grateful but abrupt G’nite.  Stay tuned.

Notes from the Road – Thursday, August 5th and Friday, August 6th –

Well, let’s see, where was I?  Oh yeah, the day after The Purple Fiddle – Thursday.  In Elkins, WV the rain continues.  We thought we’d take the boys up to Parsons a half hour away (a small town of 1,800 or so) and show them the two acres we bought a couple of years ago there on the Cheat River.  We’ve packed a lunch, brought some fishing gear and plan to make a day of it, weather permitting.  I also want to show them the wind turbines on the ridge just above Parsons – very impressive sight.

However, the weather is not cooperating.  We rolled into Parsons, past the Kingsford Charcoal plant (yep, Parsons is the home of Kingsford), past the signs for the Bluegrass Fest going on at the Five Rivers Campground (the reason I couldn’t stay there on this trip) and out the other side to head up the mountain to the wind turbines.  As soon as we started to climb the mountain we hit fog, dense fog.  We drove on up to where the turbines sit, but in the fog you couldn’t see a thing.  So, back down to Parsons and out to our property.

Like the Shaver Fork, which flows into it, the Cheat is swelled with the heavy rains and is flowing far too strong to fish with spinning gear.  You’d have to know where the holes and eddies are and I don’t.  We walked the edge of the river behind our two acres and marveled at the size of the deer tracks in the sand of the bank.  Deer sign everywhere – huge acorns from the oaks is the reason I’m sure.  We are really looking forward to being able to build here so we can start enjoying the river and the surrounding mountains.  I’ve started a song idea: “I’ve got sand in my blood and orange blossom honey in my soul, but these hills of West Virginia have taken hold of me and tied loving strings to my heart.”

Since the weather wouldn’t let us really do much we ate our sandwiches and headed on back to the campground in Elkins.  The boys wanted to watch a movie and I’m feeling napish so we all crowded into the bed and they watched the movie while I dozed.  I got a good nap – I needed it too.  At around five I fixed myself something to eat (have to sing tonight, so eating early is necessary) and began to think about my gig at El Gran Sabor in town.  Judy and the boys are going to stay at the campground tonight.  The rain has let up and the boys are going to try their luck in the trout pond.  I’ll rig their rods for them before I leave and Judy will supervise to be sure they don’t get into trouble.

As I wrote last year, El Gran Sabor is more of a restaurant / bar gig which I don’t usually do.  But, since I’m passing through here each year and will eventually be living part of the year in the area I’m trying to get in front of local folks as much as possible.  This is one way to do that.  Plus, Rob Masten, the owner, is a great guy, fellow musician and a real supporter of live music.  The stage and sound system are good and so is the food.  Because it’s not a listening room I won’t have much opportunity for my usual patter and story telling.  So, I’ll approach it like an opportunity to practice, run through my entire song list playing songs I rarely get to and focus on technique.

Even though there is a free bluegrass concert literally across the street and Davis & Elkins College, part of the Augusta Heritage Center’s summer traditional music workshops and programs, we get a good crowd in El Gran Sabor and both Rob and I are pleased.  The folks react well to the material and show their appreciation financially so that it ends up being a better night money wise than last night at The Fiddle.  I run through my repertoire as planned and, as the crowd turns over, I’m even able to go back and run through some tunes a second time to try different approaches.  All in all a very good night.

Although I’ve already eaten, Rob insists that I take a shredded pork dinner home in a to go box – no cooking tomorrow night.  We talk about the tour and when I may be coming back.  He’d like me to do a Friday night the next time and I may just do that if I can book a house concert somewhere in WV for Saturday and maybe a campground gig on either Thursday or Sunday with The Fiddle on the other.  That would make a good run here.

Back at the camper the boys are just hitting the sack.  No luck with the fishing, just one small fish between them.  But, they’ve had a good time and have been great company.  Tomorrow I take them and Judy to the airport in Richmond, Va. for the flight home.  Then I continue on with the tour for another week before turning toward home myself.  Gotta get up and at ‘em to get on the road at a reasonable hour.  G’nite.

Friday, August 6th –

It’s still cloudy out, but it’s not raining and it’s cool, which I appreciate as I set about preparing the camper for the road again.  The boys are up and eating Coco Puffs (yuck!) and we’re on the road before ten.

We head east up through the West Virginia mountains on US 33 toward Seneca Rocks.  What a spectacular drive!  It’s a strain on the SUV hauling the camper up the steep grades (some as steep as 11% or more), but the views and rock formations are breathtaking. 

Judy gets a little car sick on the twisting mountain roads so she closes her eyes and snoozes for most of the trip through the mountains however I thoroughly enjoyed it as did the boys.

Within a couple of hours we make the other side and descend into Virginia where we pick up I-81 south to Staunton, Va.  I was scheduled to play there tonight at the Darjeeling Café’, but renovations did not get completed on schedule and the gig has been cancelled.  Nevertheless, this is where I made my camping reservations and its on the route to Saturday night’s gig so I’m dropping the camper here before heading on to Richmond to deliver Judy and the boys to the airport.  I get a good lakeside campsite with about 30 ducks nestled in the grass as neighbors, simple drop the trailer in place and head out immediately for Richmond.

As the approach Richmond the traffic thickens considerably, but we get to the airport ahead of schedule.  Jet Blue is the first airline in the terminal so I am quickly abandoned by Judy, Chase and Hunter.  It’s been good having them with me for part of the trip.  I like my alone time too, but three straight weeks is a lot of alone.  So, I was glad to have them with me in the middle like this.

Back at the camper I set up for the night, have my shredded pork from El Gran Sabor (tasty!) and decide to try a cast or two in the lake.  With a mini top water lure on an ultra lite rod I quickly snag three small bass.  Fun.  A little of the amber whiskey and I’m ready for some shut eye.  Tomorrow, on the road again.  Stay tuned. 

Notes from the Road – Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Well, it’s rainy here in West Virginia.  As I mentioned we are staying at a campground northwest of Elkins, WV on the banks of the Shaver Fork River.  Great campsite and we’ve really enjoyed the river.  However, it began raining Tuesday night after we arrived (torrential down pour during the night) and persisted on and off throughout the day Wednesday (BTW, the cauling job on the camper worked - no leaks!).  It has been interesting watching the river change with the rainfall.  While the rain we received ourselves didn’t affect it, we could tell it had been raining hard upstream and up the mountain.  The river swelled to twice its depth and instead of babbling clear water current it has turned into a cloudy class I or II roiling rapids.  The boys (and Judy) have benefited as they rented tubes and have ridden down the flow several times.  Me, I don’t really like a cold butt all that much unless it’s hot and sunny out.  With overcast skies and medium temperatures I’ve opted for hanging by the campfire (rain permitting), watching the flow and taking pictures – much more to my liking.

We had planned to get out and about a bit today, but the weather and sleeping in late convinced us to hang at the campground instead.  I have The Purple Fiddle tonight and I want to rest up.  So it has turned into a lazy, periodically rainy day of river floating and dozing.  Meant to do laundry, but forgot – I will hit critical mass on that count shortly!

The Purple Fiddle is an hour up the mountain in Thomas, WV right next to Blackwater Falls and the Canaan Valley resort area.  Thomas is a quiet little community with one commercial street where The Fiddle sits next to its adjoining B&B, the Fiddler’s Roost.  This is a favorite stop for me though the crowd can be unpredictable.  The historic brick building has high, stamped metal ceilings and indescribable charm along its various, meandering shelves, nooks and crannies.  “Eclectic” doesn’t do it justice as it is not goofy or strange.  Just simple, homey, Spartan and inviting.  It has a large raised stage in a front corner with full sound and stage lighting.  Bands play the Friday and Saturday dates and Tuesday – Thursday plus Sunday are smaller acts and solos like me.  Jonathon Byrd, Red Molly, The Infamous String Dusters, and many, many more are periodic performers here.  Tonight, Wednesday, it’s me, tomorrow 3 Penny Acre (those guys are stalking me!) and Friday, Donna Ulisse and her band, with Rebecca Loebe opening.

The crowd here is unpredictable as it is not a local crowd.  The venue feeds off of folks vacationing in the resorts, campgrounds, B&B’s, etc. in the general Tucker county area.  I’ve had full rooms here (50+) and I’ve played my show for three folks plus the staff.  You just never know.  Last year was a fine night with solid attendance, responsive audience and good CD sales.  I arrived well before show time (8:30 pm) to unload, set myself up and be ready for sound check.  Judy and the boys occupied themselves with card games and ice cream as I planned my set lists.

It is not unusual here for there to be literally no one in the room until right at show time.  I was momentarily encouraged by a flow of folks in at about 8:15, but it was not to be a big crowd night.  A combination of the rain, the economy and the general uncertainty that accompanies gigs at The Fiddle rendered me an audience of about a baker’s dozen.  Even at that size I often have very good results in terms of connection with the audience and flow of the material.  In fact, some of my most memorable performances have been to small house concert or coffeehouse crowds.  But, as they say, some days you eat the bear and some days the bear eats you.  While polite attentive and appreciative I just couldn’t reel this crowd in.  Try as I might to read their reactions and adjust my delivery (up tempo, down tempo, more patter, less, humor, etc.) I just couldn’t get a rise out of them.  No one was getting up and leaving mind you, but despite investing all the energy at my command I just couldn’t engage them like I often do.  Critique from the management and staff told me I performed well and delivered quality material, but the reaction was flat.  No CD sales (I can’t remember the last time that happened) and only one new addition to the mailing list.  Ah well, they say everyone has nights like this.

Undaunted, the boys help me pack and load my gear and we headed back down the twisting mountain road towards Elkins.  The evening changes none of my affection for The Purple Fiddle and I’ll return again next year (calendars permitting).  Hopefully the audience gods will smile upon me more favorably.

Tomorrow night, El Gran Sabor in Elkins.  Stay tuned.

Notes from the Road – Wednesday July 28th – Tuesday, August 03, 2010

Ok, ok, so I’ve been busy!  Let me try to get you back up to speed here.

Wednesday, July 28th – Today I’ve got a midweek campground show and this promises to be a good one.  The campground is full, VERY unusual for midweek.  However, there is a large family reunion using the park, plus two teams of women’s fast pitch softball here to compete in a big tournament.  They are all looking forward to the show – excellent!

The weather is cooperating in a fashion – it’s hot, a lot hotter than it should be, but at least it’s not raining.  I’m traveling “fully equipped” (i.e., laptop, color printer, supplies, etc.) so I’m working on promo materials for shows during the last week of the tour and preparing them for mailing.  I haven’t been in the pool yet, but it sure is tempting.

Brian and Allison here at the Lookout Mountain KOA are great folks and take wonderful care of me while I’m here.  This is my third year staying with them and they treat me like visiting family.  They’ve even been promotion my shows outside the park which is way above and beyond the call.  If you ever come through this area on a camping trip please stop in here and tell them I sent you.

Showtime at 7:30 pm and the folks have gathered, most in chairs or on the benches under the pavilion area and others out on the grass, around the pool or at their campers if near enough by to see and hear.  It is by far the largest attendance I’ve had for one of these shows – roughly 50 or 60.  And, they enjoyed it as much as I did showing their appreciation with generous donations to the gas fund and buying CD’s.  An all around great show.  I finish very sweaty and tired, but since I’m staying right there I’m still cleaned up and settled back at the camper by 10:30 or so.  Tomorrow’s an early day as I have to run to Knoxville to perform on the WDVX Blue Plate Special at noon.  So, g’nite!

Thursday, July 29th – Up and on the road by 8:30.  The drive time to Knoxville is unpredictable due to traffic, particularly just outside of Knoxville.  In case you’re wondering, gas prices have been fairly consistent - $2.49 per gallon.  Not too bad.  To get to Knoxville I head through Chattanooga on I-24E to I-75N and then catch I-40E into Knoxville.  Smooth sailing all the way and I arrive early at the Knoxville Visitors’ Center downtown for sound check and some coffee.

Every weekday, WDVX broadcasts live at noon with 2 or 3 artists / groups in the acoustic / Americana / folk / bluegrass genres.  Folks in the downtown area come in to have lunch and watch the show performed, recorded and broadcast live from the stage the in the center.  There is always a full house, plus some standing in the back.  The sound is superb, and they treat you so well – I look forward to it every year.  There are three acts and I lead it off with When the Hummingbirds Return, Yellow Butter Moon and Steam Train to tremendous response.  During the interview segment we talk about the album Welcome Home and where I’m playing the next few nights.  It’s fun and relaxed.  Folks sign up on my email list and chat with me after the show.  And, when I next check, I find new “friend requests” on Facebook from folks that heard the show.  It’s all good.

Now, on the return, I have a shopping mission to accomplish.  Judy and my two grandsons are flying into Nashville tomorrow and will travel with me for the next week.  So I’ve been given a shopping list of food stuff that young folks want on a camping trip – you know, marshmallows, hot dogs, cocoa puffs, chips, the usual.  And, I’ve still got some organizing and cleaning to do in anticipation of their arrival so that we are all comfortable in the old camper.  Consequently, the return trip from Knoxville is a lot longer than the one this morning.

Back at the camper I’m busy hanging clothes hooks, making beds, washing towels and sheets, putting away groceries, shifting the printer to a new area and other road warrior domestic tasks.  I’m sweaty again!  I’ll soon run out of t-shirts at this pace and I brought a lot!  Supper is late and lite – just some rice and beans with some broccoli.  I’m too pooped to fool with much else.  Dishes done and I’m ready to settle in and watch a little bit of a movie before I doze off.  Tomorrow, Nashville.

Friday, July 30th – I’m up early to finish my preparations for company on the trip, get some more promotional materials out for later shows and work on booking for the rest of the year and the first part of next.  Huff and puff, because I have to be on the road by early afternoon to get Judy and the g-kids at the airport.  I’m out the door and on the road by 3 pm.

Nashville is a couple of hours away.  The plan is to pick them up at “arriving flights” and head out for an early dinner before my show in Nashville at Hillbilly Haiku House Concerts tonight.  To get to Nashville I head west on I-24 up through the valley and over Missionary Ridge and the Cumberland Gap.  Traffic does not cooperate.  Trucks struggle up the winding, steep incline and make progress by others a darting and ducking affair.  I only had one “near miss” which I think was fortunate given the conditions and I’m only 15 minutes late getting to the airport.

It’s good to see Judy and my grandsons, Chase (14) and Hunter (10).  They are excited about a week in the camper, their last week of summer before they start school again.  Unfortunately I managed to slice my right elbow on some plastic while I put the luggage in the back and so we spend a few minutes trying to stop the bleeding and cleaning up where I’ve put my elbow down on the interior leather.  I’m always banging myself up somehow.  Chase and Hunter have voted for chicken wings for dinner, so we find a Buffalo Wild Wings using the Navigatrix on the Dash and chow down for an early supper before we head to the show.  We have plans during the week to see some Civil War stuff, a cavern, some waterfalls and other such while they’re here as well as nightly campfires (they are well trained pyros), etc.  They’re even looking forward to seeing me perform a few times – grandkids are soooooo much better than kids!

Hillbilly Haiku is the well established series at the home of Rick and Denise Williams in Lebanon, TN just east of Nashville.  I’m performing with my friends 3 Penny Acre from Arkansas and David Glasser, who I’ve heard much about, but never met.  The crowd here will be mostly folks who are familiar with my music and I’m anxious to share some of my new material with them, though Denise requests Hemingway’s Hurricane and what Denise wants Denise gets!!  Lovely home and two terrific dogs, the younger of which is an Australian Sheppard and the older a Sheltie.  Brian, Bernice, Bayard and David are already there when we arrive and a quick sound check gets everything set to go.  I lead off with When the Hummingbirds Return, This Old House, I Wish, Hemingway’s Hurricane and a couple of others.  3 Penny Acre follows with an awesome set of their own and one from David.  If you’re not familiar with these folks, they have websites, of course, and you should check them out.  David is a master guitarist and has been “sideman to the stars” over the years.  He is embarking on a solo career at this point and really gives a great show.  I’ve been a huge fan of 3 Penny Acre since I met them at SERFA two years ago – awesome performers and Bayard makes all of his instruments – guitars, mandolins, bouzoukis, etc.  I think I have a Bayard bouzouki somewhere in my future when finances permit.

It’s a great night and we finish it off with everyone up to do a really high energy version of Yellow Butter Moon.  The show was about two and a half hours and we get finished, packed and goodbyes said around 11 pm.  The problem is that heading west to Nashville I crossed the central time zone line, so back where we are headed it’s already midnight.  By the time we get loaded, etc. and drive back to the Chattanooga area it’s after 2 am – yikes!  It takes me a while to wind down after getting the boys stowed in their bunks so I don’t drift off until . . . uh, until . . . ZZZZZZ.

Saturday, July 31st –

Given our late night in Nashville we elected to try to sleep in a little and have our first day together be a “hang out at the campground” day.  We sure didn’t sleep in as late as I’d hoped and I was draggy to say the least.  I took the boys around the campground, introduced them to our hosts, showed them where all of their entertainment options were – their favorite, by far, was the “big pillow,” a ground based inflated trampoline of sorts that is a regular feature in KOA’s.  Judy’s shopping list, without the boys’ input, was unfortunately far from complete, so in the early afternoon I ran into town to fill it out and got caught in a monsoon.  However, it rained little back at the campground and they were driven under cover only for a short while.  When I returned we hit the pool to refresh and play a little catch with the foam football.

Soon it was time to think about supper and I opted for spaghetti, still an early supper so I’d be ready to sing at 8 pm.  Tonight it’s Charles & Myrtles’ in Chattanooga at the Christ Unity Church.  This is a favorite stop for all touring artists roaming through southeastern Tennessee and I always look forward to seeing Andrew Kelsey, the guy in charge, and his amazing home baked cookies.

I left the campground about 6:30 to get in and set up.  Judy and the boys elected to stay behind as they’ll see plenty of shows and getting to bed early really appealed to them.  Andrew and Alan were waiting to help me with gear, CDs, etc.  We chatted over coffee and I learned that Andrew had been out for a bit having surgery for bladder cancer.  They caught it very early so he’s fine, but not after wrestling with some complications of the procedure which he described in excruciating detail – issues involving catheters and blockages and pain, all of which had me squirming quite uncomfortably.  However, I was saved as folks started filtering in just before show time and soon I had a nice Satruday night crowd gathered for two full sets of material.  I gave them a very good show, though I must confess that at the last three songs I had run out of gas and remembering words, or my name for that matter, became a struggle.  Against Jack Williams’ sage advice to never make excuses on stage I did allow as how I’d only had about 4 – 5 hours sleep after driving from Nashville the night before and apologized for my depleted capacity.  I guess I’m getting’ too old for that short sleep stuff.  The audience took it all with great good humor and honored me by taking home many CDs to add to their collections.

Back at the campground just after 11 pm I was surprised to find Judy still awake.  She and the boys had watched a movie for a bit and they had gone to bed a few minutes before, already dead to the world.  I had a nice glass of wine, recounted the show for Judy and soon the sandman found his way to our end of the camper.  G’nite.

Sunday, August 1st –

Well, I didn’t get the complete night’s sleep I’d hoped for.  In the early morning hours that monsoon I’d hit in town made another circuit and hit the campground.  I love sleeping in the rain like that, but not when I can feel my feet getting wet – LEAK!  Yep, the same one that got me over at the State park.  I grabbed towels and placed them to catch the flow as best I could – Judy slept through the whole thing.  I was able to get a little more sleep before time to get up and about, but not nearly as much as I needed.

Part of the Charles & Myrtles’ gig is to return Sunday morning and a short set of music for the service.  This is a nice extra which they pay you for and you get to play for some who didn’t make it to the show the night before.  Judy and the boys had planned to go, but with the leak issue we decided they’d best stay behind and dry things out so that I could work on repairs when I got back.  The service was especially nice and was focused on finding God both out in the world and within your self.  To try to match that theme I played Do You, Welcome Home (which, with my intro about Steve Blackwell and the example he set for us all, had more than a few in moving tears) and Break Some Stones – very well received by the congregation.  Though the service included lunch afterwards, I made my apologies and hurried back to work on staunching the leak at it’s source.

With caulk gun in hand I borrowed a ladder from our campground hosts and inspected the possible sources of the flow.  Very mysterious.  The most likely cause I could identify was the area around the fire escape window on that side.  I could see that there was a heavy flow of water running down from the gutter overhead right onto that seam.  So, with no regard for appearance whatsoever (the camper is pretty beat up anyway) I slathered on the silicone caulk at all possible points of entry.  Meanwhile, Judy had raised the mattress, no small feat, and had fans running to dry it and the decking while the linens tumbled in the washer.

With that underway we headed out for a little sight seeing.  Up at Lookout Mountain we enjoyed the “Battles of Chattanooga” presentation which really explained the pivotal confrontation in the Great War of Northern Aggression that took place here at this essential railroad hub.  When the South lost Chattanooga to Grant it paved the way for Sherman’s march to the sea and the ultimate surrender at Appomattox.  Next we hit Raccoon Mountain Caverns, a very impressive 45 minute tour of an enormous cavern system that is millions of years old.  The boys really enjoyed both, but I’m guessing they liked the caverns the best.  However, pizza for supper before heading back was also a hit.

Back at the campground I got ready for my final show in the campground.  There are a lot fewer folks now and I’m wondering if we’ll have much of a crowd.  However, as evening approached several more campers rolled in, all of whom were recruited at check-in for the show, and at 7:30 I had a nice group of 20 or so willing listeners.  Everyone enjoyed the songs and the stories.  This group seemed to particularly like Crescent City Lament, a new song about how I perceive New Orleans to have changed over the years (having nothing to do with Katrina).  CDs went home in other folks’ cars and I packed up before settling before the fire with a nip to watch the boys roast marshmallows.  Tomorrow, on the road again.

Monday, August 2nd –

I had hoped to get on the road by 9 am, but that wasn’t to be.  As it turned out 10:15 was more like it.  We rolled out and headed northeast through Knoxville and the Johnson City area on up into Virginia.  Gas prices remained consistent at about $2.49 per gallon at the truck stop type stations (Pilot, Flying J, Kangaroo, etc.).  The weather was overcast, but it made for nice driving.

Just before Knoxville we stopped at one of the boys’ favorites, Cracker Barrel, for a good lunch and then continued on.  Without a map you can almost tell when you leave Tennessee and enter Virginia.  The character of the landscape and architecture of the structures changes perceptibly.  Virginia has an unmistakable gentle, rolling, aged feeling that you more sense than see.  I enjoyed driving in silence much of the day while Judy and the boys’ snoozed, read or listened to their mp3s.  These boys are excellent travelers – not one “how much longer” the whole trip (so far).

Figuring that 6 hours on the road was enough for us all, I picked out a State Park in Marion, Va., just south of Wytheville, called (no kidding) Hungry Mother State Park.  The name originates from an old legend that I won’t repeat at length here, but the park is magnificent.  It’s center piece is a big lake with a brown sand beach and bi-level diving platform – the boys were in heaven!  I got us a campsite near the creek that feeds into the lake and turned the boys loose while I set up for the short one night stay and prepared to cook supper – steaks over an open wood fire with baked potatoes, asparagus and warm bread.  Hey, this was a night off for me and I wanted a great meal!  After supper we brought the VCR out under the stars and watched Robin Williams in RV (how appropriate) by the campfire.  I know, I would have rathered just watch the fire, may pick a little, etc., but you have to wean kids off of the electronic world slowly and we’ve pretty good so far.

Tuesday, August 3rd –

With the lake and the diving platform, an early start on into West Virginia was not in the cards, so while the boys swam I made lunch to eat on the road, began working on this update you’re reading and then packed everything up for the next leg of the journey.  On the road at 1 pm, not too bad.

I knew from past experience that gas prices in West Virginia will be A LOT higher, so I topped the tank off before heading on north on I-79.  Just as Virginia has it’s own unmistakable character, so does West Virginia.  It is clearly wilder and more rugged with steeper hills and rocky outcroppings.  For me it is the most beautiful of all, untamed and unspoiled in so many ways.  The going gets a lot tougher here as the steep inclines strain the SUV hauling the big camper.  You can almost watch the gas gauge drop as the engine revs to make each peak.  I finally had to make a fuel stop about 45 minutes short of our final destination, Elkins, WV.  And, as expected, the gas prices are $.30 more per gallon here – ouch!

We’re staying north of Elkins at Revells Campground on the Shaver Fork River.  Our site is right on the river lined with trees and the boys are thrilled at the prospects for exploring, fishing, etc.  We’ll be here three nights before moving on to Virginia.  I drop them off at the airport Friday in Richmond, Va. for their trip home.  We set up for the longer stay (all stabilizers down, sewer attached, awning out, etc.) and supped on hot dogs by the fire.  I can tell rain is on the way – sure hope my patch job works.  I’ll keep you posted!