DEAR DIARY

Dear Diary,
 It's been a long time and you know I have been really busy with life events, etc. However, I did want to check in and get in my yearly thoughts about The Grey Fox Bluegrass Festival. Usually it is pretty blurry after the fest and this year isn't much different, but I thought I would take a shot at a chronological recollection of the week.
 Tuesday 7/15/14:
 Got up at a reasonable hour and finished packing the truck and cooler with the last minute stuff. Left the house around 8am and stopped at the convenience store for beer and half and half for the coffee. While I was there I got a text message from my Crew Chief asking if I was on the way. I drove up to the farm past the Winston Farm in Saugerties where they had a huge concert weekend with disastrous results just in the few days prior. On Monday after that event they still had over 1,000 cars stuck in the mud. I saw the wallow marks from tractors and 'dozers sent in to pull those cars out. Sheesh, what a mess. I thought to myself 'boy am I glad we don't have issues like that!'
 I arrived on the farm at about 9:30am with heavy overcast skies and a forecast of heavy rain until midnight (not good, but workable). I checked in at my Crew Chief's trailer and he was not there. So I checked out the medical tent and was surprised to see everything was already delivered to the tent. This is what I expected to be doing, so my day just got a lot easier! All I have to do is get my camp set up before the rain starts and I can get to work here, knowing that when Steve and Jerry arrive from Kentucky, they will have a dry spot to sleep.
 So I set up camp and took some extra precautions to make it bullet proof for the heavy rain. Not a bad job, if I say so myself. I sent a photo off to Steve and Jerry and no sooner had I done that, than the skies opened up, BIGTIME. I waited the rain out for a bit, but when it showed no sign of abating, I jumped in the truck and drove back to the med tent. Big mistake. I should have walked, I slid sideways for most of the distance on the slick grass.

2 minutes before the rain started. Note there are no other tents around.

Here's the same basic angle, one day later:

Things have 'filled in' just a bit.

We tried getting some setup done in the tent, but with the heavy rain and the water working its way in along the ground, it was pretty tough. At 2 pm there was a ban placed to prevent anyone from driving on the field and making ruts. Not even golf carts could move. My truck was stuck where I had parked it. We piddled around here and there with what we could do, interspersed with greeting new arrivals and catching up since we'd last met. We had some dinner but I don't remember what. Steve and Jerry arrived around 7:30pm, I think. We had to park them by the med tent and carry in the stuff they needed for the night. It rained lightly, but picked up again around 2am and rained heavy until 5am. The tent remained dry inside, a huge relief to me.
 Wednesday 7/16/14:
 The day dawned grey, but the rain had stopped. I made breakfast for us and prepared to watch the rodeo (the gates are opened to the public at 7:30am and the field fills quickly in about 3-4 hours). We enjoyed our coffee and talked for a bit. Soon I realized that 7:30 had come and gone and nobody was coming in. Hmmmm. About that time I learned that the festival had decided to hold off opening the gates until 10:30 to let the field drain. This turned out to be a brilliant decision that saved us from the same fate as the Winston Farm Concert. Still when they did open the gates, they had to use large farm tractors to pull in the largest mobile homes and rigs. Through the day they pulled out a bunch of cars, but not nearly what they would have done if the gates opened as planned. The 'roads' on the grass remained fairly good with only a few bad spots.
 Steve and I tried to give Jerry, who was here for the first time, a run down on what to expect and where things were. Steve is a DJ for WorldwideBluegrass.com and Jerry was his engineer for the weekend. Jerry is a whiz with sound, sound files, and audio editing among many other skills. Their goal for the weekend was to maintain music transmissions for 48 hours from Thursday night to Saturday night, and they darn near pulled it off too.
We went and checked out the main stage progress, and at that point I went down and tried to help get the med tent going. We spread hay to walk on and suck up some of the water. In fact, they were spreading hay on a lot of the roads and walking areas for the same reason. Things started to come together slowly. I grabbed a golf cart and did a few loops around the check on the crowd and ran into a few friends here and there, making mental notes of where they were camped. Our med staff started to drift in over the day. The stages were getting set up, vendor row was coming together and folks were getting settled in.  Around 3:30pm Bill Keith arrived and soon after that, the Cody's came in too (or maybe I have that backwards). Putting up Bill's Tee Pee is always an adventure requiring careful planning, skill and coordination. I enjoyed watching Ron, Steve, Jerry, and Bill make it happen while Wendy documented the process with photos.

View from the back of our campsite looking out toward the 'road' with Bill's Tee Pee in the center. Many would call it the epicenter.

 I checked in again with the med group and had a beer or two with them, then returned to our site to find some of the folks from the Maine Youth Bluegrass Ensemble picking away. WOW, what a sweet sound, and such talent. They then headed off to the 'open mic night' that was taking place in the dance tent. I hear they were very popular there and no wonder. Great musicians. We amused ourselves with talk and catching up and a bit of music. Visitors dropped by regularly. Grey Fox is a big family and folks are anxious to see how everyone got through the past year. They were showing a brand new documentary about Bill Monroe tonight called 'Powerful: Bill Monroe Remembered' and as it happened, Bill Keith was interviewed for this film, so they asked Bill to speak before they ran the film. I arranged for Lisa to pick Bill up and give him a ride over. Right about that time we got some super news, but I am sorry Diary, I cannot share it. I am sworn to secrecy until the press release comes out. None the less, both Lisa and I were all choked up with tears and I still get a lump in my throat thinking about it. Every year at Grey Fox, I say it can't possibly get better than last year, and then, it does. Here we were just starting the weekend, and I had already had a moment that I will remember in my nursing home days. Before the movie, Bill talked about playing with Monroe then sat back with the rest of us to watch the show, which he had never seen. It was really good and we didn't want to leave, but after about an hour and a half, we were so cold that we couldn't sit anymore and it was nearly 1:00am. Lisa gave us a lift back through the cold and damp morning. I slept well that night. It was quite a day and the weekend was just beginning.
 Thursday, 7/17/14:
 The weather was now perfect. Warm and sunny, but not too hot. This is also the day I work the overnight shift, so it is important that I lay low, take it easy, grab a nap if I can (HAH!) and be ready for a long night in case it gets busy. Thursday is when the planned music starts, and this year they had a very heavy lineup for the first night which included Steep Canyon Rangers and Nickel Creek We were also expecting Ryan Cavanaugh and Leah to arrive on this day later in the afternoon. I caught some stuff here and there between meals, Ryan and Leah arrived and came by to say 'hi', then went to set up camp. I got a text from Ryan about an hour later that he would be sitting in with Town Mountain on the Catskill stage at 7pm and then up on the main stage with the Steep Canyon Rangers at 9pm. Wow, he is on the farm to 2 hours and he scores sit-ins with 2 major groups. I missed his set on the Catskill stage, but was working up around the main stage when he was called up to play with the Steep Canyon Rangers along with the mandolinist from Red Wine. They each had killer breaks and Ryan especially drove it home. What a joy to watch the crowd go nuts over a friend's playing. We had a huge crowd at the main stage that night because Aiofe O'Donnovan, SCR and Nickel Creek were on the bill. After the main stage closed for the night and I headed back to the Med tent I ran into my buddy Rushad Eggleston and his Mouse Princess. He was jonesing for a good jam, so I pointed him in the direction of our camp where I knew those great kids from Maine would be playing. Rushad went over to his car and changed out of his stage clothes into something more subtle (That's humor, right there, in case you missed it) and he started playing as he walked out of the artists parking area. By the time he had traveled 100 feet, he had a crowd, at 1:00 in the morning. Mostly youth with a few musicians among them, a jam started up and the next thing you knew there were 40 people, including Medical staff and Security, who were mostly smiling and taking pictures. The played a nice round and all the youngsters got to play a break with Rushad and were quite good. It was a super moment. Then the jam broke up and Rushad went down to our camp, where, I am told, he jammed for a couple of hours, and I missed it. I was on duty for the night.
 I only managed an hour sleep, as we were kept busy tending to folks who needed us. The temp dropped to 48 degrees F and it was hard to keep from shivering as we worked on some of our patients in the dark. Flying across the field with the pedal to the floor made we a lot colder than I expected and I never thought about the wind chill factor in July, until that night. Thursday night always seems to be a busy night for the med crew at GF, I don't know why. I am just glad I have one of the best working partners a guy could ask for in Terry, she is top notch!
 Friday, 7/18/14:
 We got off shift around 9:00am and I borrowed some wheels and ran over to the camp and gave Bill a lift up to breakfast. One of my biggest joys at GF is being able to hang out with, and around Bill. I confess that I make excuses to be in that situation, I give him rides here and there through the weekend, walk with him to his workshops, because I would not miss them anyway, and generally find any excuse to be around him. He thinks I am 'doing him favors', but the truth, as you might guess, is that I am having the time of my life just hanging around him.
 So we went up to breakfast and as usual, folks would take turns coming by and having a meal, and a chat with Bill. Many are old friends and some are new friends. Some just want to meet him, get a 'howdy and a shake' and say 'thanks' for what he taught them through his music. Some days it could take 2 hours for Bill to get through a meal, because as soon as one person would wish him well and move on to let him finish his meal, another one would sit down and start a conversation. Now this may sound like an annoyance, but I am quite sure that Bill really enjoys this social atmosphere and the conversations are always enjoyable and animated, with many good stories crossing the table. Some days it seemed that we had barley gotten back from breakfast when it was time to head up for lunch.
 Friday was another 'lay low' day for me. My cognitive abilities from being up all night meant that I could not go on duty and treat patients. There was no way I could go into a tent at around 110 degrees and try to sleep. So the only option was to stay up and take it easy. Bill had a workshop with Mike Munford, Mike Kropp, and (surprise!) Ryan Cavanaugh. . It was a killer session. I spent the day relaxing, grabbed a much needed shower and visited several times with Matthew Goins at the Blue Chip Picks booth. Matthew is a great guy and we share so much in common having both been raised as shop rats in the machining trades. We could, and often do, talk for hours. Matthew treats me way better than I deserve and I very much enjoy his company as well as that of his young assistant Daniel who is a scarey good musician.
 Della Mae was on the main stage at 9pm Friday night, but there was no way I could stay awake for that. My head hit the pillow at 9pm (after 40+ hours awake) as I heard them take the stage and I listened to their first 3 tunes, and I could tell this was a great performance, but after that, I remember nothing. My bladder woke me up at 2:45 and I found my sandals in the dark while listening to a killer jam going on in our camp. When I stepped out of the tent, I had to wade through a crowd of about 30-40 people who were listening to the jam. Good music attracts good musicians, and this was one of those special times. Still, I was exhausted, so I went to the head and went back to bed. In 2 minutes I was back to sleep and didn't stir until 7:30am. I learned later that the jam started around 2am and went to about 5am. At one point, there were 2 saxophones in the jam. I never heard any of it except when I made that short trip.
 Saturday, 7/19/14:
 At this point my recollections are starting to get blurred because I am getting my days confused and for the most part was still behind on my sleep. The day was generally filled with socializing, jams, visiting, catching various performances, and of course, meals. I was feeling a bit guilty for taking all of Friday off and I noticed that my crew Chief was looking tired. I also noticed that we had the biggest crowd up at the main stage that I had ever seen. So after dinner I grabbed my 'uniform' and went back to work up around the main stage, both back stage and 'front of house' where the crowd was. I had concerns because there were so many people, you could no longer see where the walking paths were. If something odd were to happen, I thought we should have folks in the crowd. I needn't have worried. The Saturday night lineup was killer and that's what drew the crowd, of course. We had Tim O'Brien & Darrel Scott, Del McCoury (always a huge draw) and the Carolina Chocolate Drops closing, another huge favorite. I wandered the crowd looking for issues or warning signs and saw none. As the Carolina Chocolate Drops were nearing the close, the crowd started to thin, just a little at a time. and by the time they finished their final encore, the crowd was back to normal. They exited the main stage seating without any issues and we did our normal sweep finding the usual 2 or 3 people sound asleep and sent them on their (safe) way. That's why I love GF, I always expect something challenging to happen, and it almost never does. When it does happen, we have such great people, that it is always handled well and without undue stress for anyone. It is, by far, the best large event I have ever worked at, bar none. Anyway, I turned in my radio and headed back to camp at around 1:30am where I found Ryan Cavanaugh, Steve Martin, Jerry Schrepfer, Bill Keith and a friend/student of Ryan's by the name of Doug Goldstein all sitting around and talking.
 I didn't know it when it happened, but Steve's computer crashed around 10pm this evening and he lost all his software someplace and could not recover. They decided the best thing to do was bag it, as they were so close to the end and they could try to salvage it when they got home. I knew if Jerry couldn't get it going in 10 minutes, they probably made the best decision.
Ryan was noodling away and talking about diminished 7ths and 12ths and other stuff that makes my head hurt, Bill was listening and enjoying Ryan's noodling as were the rest of us. Ryan invited Doug to play some of the stuff he was working on, and what followed was an incredible example of how far you can take a 5 string banjo as they swapped leads back and forth and played some incredible light touch, jazz inspired music that is impossible (for me) to describe. All I could say was WOW.  I looked at Bill's face during this, and near as I could tell with the available light, he was smiling broadly. When they had finished, Jerry looked at Bill and said 'Now if I understand this correctly, we have you to blame for what we just heard?" Everybody smiled...except Bill and he was quick to deflect the compliment to the players involved, however, those players would have none of it and reminded him of specific things Bill had done to influence the paths they chose to follow. It was sweet and I felt as if we were watching a circle come back around on itself and close the loop. I could not invent a better ending to the week. The conversations went on for a while and eventually the younger folks headed off to a jam and the rest of us turned in, even though it was only about 2am. Steve and Jerry had a very long drive back to Kentucky the next morning (12-14 hours as I recall) and wanted some sleep.
 Sunday, 7/20/14;
 This is always the worst day for me, because we all have to say goodbye and hope we run into each other at some point during the upcoming year. It's also a busy day, because all this stuff has to be taken down, rolled up, and packed into vehicles. Everybody leaves around noon or 1pm and then I head over to the med tent and help pack up there. We have sweeps to do to make sure all the patrons got out safely and nobody is left behind in a hot tent to sleep it off. It's a big farm to cover, but once we are satisfied that all is well we, the staff take some time to wish each other well, have a parting drink, or cigar, or hug, or all three, and slowly and reluctantly drive off the farm.
 This year it wasn't too bad, because I already had plans to meet with a bunch of folks in the coming months at various other events.
 Diary, you know Grey Fox holds a special place in my heart and serves as my yearly re-charge station. This year was no different and I am already looking forward to next year. Check out this handsome crew:

GF Staff Phtogrpher photo with Wendy Cody's camera.Top to bottom, left to right: Leah Latella, Me, Ron Cody, Ryan Cavanaugh, Wendy Cody, Bill Keith, Jonny Cody. Not pictured are Steve Martin and Jerry Schrepfer who were 200 miles down the road by this time.

 

Keep The Beat,
Tom

TRYING TO CATCH UP...

 Since my Dad's passing, life has been a bit of a blur. Once the dust settled and we worked on setting up a new routine for our Mom, we had to jump right into preparations for the family reunion we were hosting at our home in mid-July. This meant work every night after getting home and all weekend. 24 years of neglect takes a lot of work to overcome and we only had precious few weeks. Yard work, finishing the porch (walls, floors, ceiling, and windows) and all the prep work wore us out. But it was worth it and we had a great time. I had one day after the reunion to clean the place up, then I packed for Grey Fox and headed up to the farm for a week.
It's taken 2 weeks to recover from Grey Fox (more about that in the next post) and the hits just keep on coming. Evan Shultis, Michael Hunold, and Matt Bowe played a killer single mic gig at the Landmark Inn last weekend and Bill and Claire Keith were in the house. Roland White is playing 3 gigs in our area this weekend, but I am broke and will have to miss those with regret. The Hoot is fast approaching on August 22-24 (you should come, and some volunteer slots are still open).  Then I have a trip to Chicago for the second week in September (business, but I may catch some Blues at Buddy Guy's club at some point). The  day before I leave for Chicago (9/6), Norm Wennet is playing at Catskill Mountain Pizza, and the day I return from Chicago we have a house concert at The Elmendorph Inn with Nick Gareiss & Maeve Gilchrist. Then I have a weekend off (so far) and on Saturday, September 27th I travel to Brooklyn with Bill Keith for the Park Slope Bluegrass & Old Time Festival.
 We catch a flight out on 9/30 for IBMA. This is my first time going and I am honored to be going with Bill. He knows this event like the back of his hand, having been a member since the organization was formed. This is going to be an overloading experience for me, I know already. The street festival, indoor concerts, Bluegrass ramble (multiple clubs with multiple bands on multiple nights), the awards ceremonies, and the private and semi-private events in various suites, not to mention the jamming going on everywhere. I scarcely know where to start. It will be quite an experience to see some of this from the inside. We return on 10/5 and get ready for a house concert at The Barn on 10/11 featuring The Gather Rounders coming all the way down from Maine. This is going to be a very Special night with some special guests and I'll share more about it when we get closer.
 Then the calendar clears up for a while until Robert Sarazin Blake is here again, playing out at the Empire State Railway Museum in Phoenicia on 11/22. I have a feeling there will be some other things going on around that time that I don't know about yet, but it's early yet.
 SO I put this up just to show both of my semi-loyal readers that I did not drop off the planet, I just got busy and will continue to be so. I also wanted to share some of the upcoming events with y'all. I am trying to get back into some sort of regular postings here, but that remains a challenge.
Keep the Beat,
Tom

A Post for Dad

 I wrote the post below about a week ago. I never posted it, because I really wrote it for myself to help me work some things out in my head. Sometimes writing can help a person do that, sometimes not.
 It's a moot point now. My Dad passed away about 4 hours ago at the age of 95 years, 2 months, and 2 days. That's a pretty good run and he was more active than most folks would believe up until about 2 months ago. My Dad was always a bit tough on us kids, but not tough in a mean way, he had high expectations for us, and sometimes, when we wanted to take the easy choice he would challenge us to do better. He never drove us like some parents do, but he expected us to hold some high standards in the important areas like knowing right from wrong, helping your neighbor, and doing the right thing when nobody was watching. My Dad passed from this world the way he wanted to, at home, with family. We never expected it would be tonight until about 10 minutes before it happened. I will always take great solace in the fact that I was with him when he drew his final breath. It is also a wonderful comfort that my son was there with me at that time. I know it was as tough, or even tougher for him to cope with, but I took strength and support from his presence, he has turned into quite a good man. I have seen a lot of death in recent years, and it is never easy, but it is so different when it is someone you love, no matter how prepared you think you are. Goodbye Dad. I know you knew it, and I know I showed it, but I rarely said it, because in our family that's the way it is, I Love you Dad. Your kind will never be seen again on this earth. Thanks for what you taught me.
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Here's the post from last week....


It's been over a month since I've written anything here, sorry. I do see that there are those who check the page out from time to time and folks just finding it. The fact is, I have been tied up with important stuff that doesn't allow me time, energy, or desire to write for what I consider a pleasure. I haven't much felt like I deserved to take the luxury of having any pleasure for a while now. Sometimes things happen in your life that makes everything you thought was important fall right off your map and disappear.  I am writing this now only to help me parse things out in my head and hopefully let me make some good choices going forward.
 Ever since I was old enough to get out of bed in the morning and find my way to the kitchen, I knew my Dad would be sitting in his chair and thinking when I got there, It didn't matter if it was 6am, or 7am, or even 5am, he would already be in the kitchen. Just sitting and thinking, and perhaps making notes on a pad or sketching something. I never got out out bed and headed to the kitchen that he was not already there, drinking his black coffee and quietly thinking. Not ever, not one day that I lived in my parents home was he not already up and at the table. I think I first noticed it when I was around 10 or 12. I knew that we didn't really talk or make conversation, this was his thinking time. We might exchange some words, but always brief. Until I got older, then he might offer some unsolicited suggestions about the latest poor decision he mysteriously knew I was about to make. He never spoke directly and never told me what to do, he would just tell me a story about when he was young and in a similar situation and how his choice turned out (usually poorly and most times he would laugh at how silly his thinking was). He left it to me to figure out which way to go. (I would usually do what I wanted to do in the first place, and he would be there to help me fix it, when it inevitably needed fixing. To his unending credit, he never said "I told you so", but he would ask if I had figured out where I went wrong, which to me was a very different question.)
 When I entered my late teens and learned to drink my own black coffee, it was much the same. Quiet time for both of us to think. If I had something weighing on my mind, this was a good time to ask. This was when we would be able to communicate without outside interference or comment. There were no rules, just keep your voice down, don't get excited, and have a discussion. A real discussion.
 When I got married and had my own home and kitchen table, I came to enjoy getting up early and sitting there in the quiet to think. I still do that everyday, but now it's at this desk, instead of the kitchen. (This house has no kitchen table.)
 Tonight I was thinking of how much I learned from my Dad without him consciously  teaching or telling me anything. The lesson was implied 'You need to think your day through before you enter it' and 'sometimes you just need some quiet time to figure out what to do.'
 Well I have been so busy of late that my time in the morning is wasted on catching up on emails and facebook. I have slid downhill a ways, I guess, and lost focus. So here I am tonight, sitting and thinking. The house is quiet, I'm the only one awake, and I have much on my mind and no idea what to do. Dad is the big thing on my mind now. In fact he is pretty much the only thing on my mind now. He is 95 and not well. We (my sister and I) are trying to figure out how to proceed from here. We are trying to figure out what is best for him, and our Mom. This is tough, really tough. If I didn't have my wife, my sister, our kids, and our brother (who is fifteen hundred miles away) for emotional support, the daily requirements, and sharing the load. this would be even harder. We do have them and are thankful of course, but my sis and I are the ones who really need to deal with this in the end.
 And we don't know what to do. Apparently we were naive' to think that people who had worked all their lives, paid into the 'system' without question, would in turn, be able to get a little assistance when they needed it.  Turns out that even if your income is below the poverty level, there is little or no help available unless you are on medicaid. Of course, the insurance doesn't cover what's needed because they have rules written on paper which don't really care about the people that paid for that paper in the first place.
 So tonight, I let my brain free-float. Somehow I started thinking about all those mornings when there was my Dad and I, sitting in the kitchen, in the near dark, with the sun just threatening on the horizon with a glow. Totally quiet and the two of us sitting there, staring into space and thinking. He might say something, I would answer with a thought, and then another 10 minutes of silence until one of us had another thought. I realize now, this is how I learned to think, and more importantly, how I learned that thinking is a required skill. It's also how I learned that you need to take time to consider what has been said before you conceive, then offer your own thoughts. In short, it is where I learned to analyze and examine EVERYTHING, for myself, with the information I knew to be correct, rather than what someone else (such as the media or hearsay) chose to feed to me. This has proven itself to be one of my strongest skills in life, but also a curse because I tend to make short work of folks who come to fight a mental battle completely unarmed with facts or a solid thought process.
 All this from sitting at the kitchen table every morning. I find it ironic now, that I am trying to resurrect those moments to help us make some decisions about my Dad's future.
 This is so very hard because my Dad can't really tell us accurately what he wants and it now becomes our job to do what he would want. I guess it comes down to how he and my Mom raised us. I know there is no single correct choice. Life is just not that simple. I have offered advice and basic guidance to dozens of families that have aging parents nearing the end of their run and I suppose that is why I find the choices in front of us so difficult. I know how it should go, I just don't know how to get there. On the one hand I feel like getting through each day is a victory, and on the other hand, I am mad at myself for not having a plan that covers the next month or two. Which is right?
 I guess I have to think about this some more.
T

IT CAN BE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOUR FACE, AND YET....

Sorry I haven't put anything up here in quite a while. Family first, and right now, my family requires all my time when I am not at work. Yet I am staying up a little later tonight to share a small snippet of joy and humor, and learning that forced itself on me last night, and for which I am grateful.
 I have many blessings which I take too often for granted. Especially now, when I feel overloaded. This one took 24 hours to settle into my head before I could grasp the significance.
 So there I was last night, at a sawmill concert. No, it wasn't a club called "The Sawmill', it was, well, a sawmill. You know the type of place where they take trees and make it into lumber? Big saw table, tools, lumber and trees in various states of milling. The hosts had done a neat job of making some room and accommodations in a place normally dedicated to hard work and nothing but. Some might find it surreal, but I found it.. comfortable. Having spent most of my life in and around shops where things are created, refined, fabricated, repaired, or built, it seemed like a comfortable and safe place. Still, there we were in the woods in a sawmill and it was raining, dark, and a bit chilly.
 Winter died slowly this year and the ice only left the Reservoir 24 hours earlier, the latest date in memory. It was warmer than it has been at night anytime this year so far, but not what you might call 'warm', on a rainy night. Pretty much everyone there was used to the miserable temperatures we've had for the past 4 months and were sporting light attire of just 2 or 3 layers. Everybody wanted spring to move in NOW and we were all looking forward to those nights of sitting around fires while talking, or singing, or making music, or just thinking. You could pick out the outdoor working folks who were just wearing a sweatshirt in spite of the rain. Most of us could get under the cover of the shed roof on the mill which was clearly built to protect the equipment and not the folks running it or working around it. The machinery stayed dry, while we got a bit damp. I sat on a stool that put my right arm  in the drip-line of the roof and so my right arm and leg got a bit wet. There was an appropriate amount of light mud on the bedrock that was predominant of this piece of earth, just about a mile through the woods from my house.
 We were a small group due to the size of the venue and it was a private invitation only type of thing. I felt honored to be there and was just as anxious as everyone else to begin the season of enjoying weekends with outdoor activity in the evenings.
 So this was all set up by Mike Merenda for his buddy Robert Sarazin Blake. Robert stopped at Mike & Ruthy's home as he often does before starting a northeastern tour and he had an evening free, so Mike put together a sawmill concert. In reality, it was a bunch of friends that came together to encourage the approach of spring, listen to some very well crafted music, and enjoy each others company. It was a good way for Robert to get a relaxed kick-off to the 25 gig tour he was beginning the next evening.
 So the evening kicked off. Mike played a set of some very enjoyable stuff. We took a little break, then Robert played a set with Mike backing him, there was some group singing and we had a fantastic time. Frankly I am surprised the these two played as long as they did because the temp, although not really cold, was a bit rough on the fingers.
 It was my first experience with Robert and I found him to be wonderful. He has his own take on music, he is a true singer/songwriter, and his style is unique to me. Very interesting, very thoughtful and thought provoking. I like his material, his presentation, and his presence very much.
 I took the opportunity to speak with Robert after the gig and enjoyed the conversation immensely. He is a very nice guy and easy to talk to. I suggested that sometime down the road when he comes for a visit he might want to check out some of the local 'activities' that we have available. He confessed that he had been in our town perhaps 20 or more times over the years, but never gone out and about. I mentioned the Thursday night gig at the Harmony cafe' and how you never know who might walk into the club on any given Thursday. Mark Black was there a few weeks ago, Tom Pacheco had dropped by just the night before, John Sebastion, Maria Muldaur, and other folks like that. You never know who might walk in. I said something about how I have been in the habit of going every Thursday I can because I love to hear the guys play and Bill Keith is a favorite of mine, as well as a friend. I started to explain that Bill has not been playing there lately because of a left hand issue and Eric Wiessberg has been filling in for him when Robert reached out and grabbed my elbow and said " Wait, What?, BILL KEITH plays in the HOUSE BAND?" I explained that they do a regular Thursday night gig and it wasn't a 'house band' per se'. He threw his head back and just said "Oh man, next time I come around we are going to have to get out a little." The rest of the conversation followed a natural course and we parted as new friends. I very much enjoyed Roberts music and will look for opportunities to see him again.
 So this evening I finally got a chance to sit back and listen to some of Roberts music on his CD's and as I was listening, that little snippet of our conversation came into my head and I realized that Robert had immediately recognized the value of what I may have taken for granted. People all over the world have payed decent ticket prices to go and see Bill Keith play. Many have forked out lots of money and time to be able to spend a few days studying with him. So many professionals have learned key things from Bill that have furthered their music, as well as their careers. I get to see him every Thursday for the price of a beer and whatever I put in the tip jar. Sometimes, perhaps too many times, I take what I have for granted. Last night, it took a traveling musician who came all the way from Washington state to point out how lucky I am.
 I hope to have time to write in detail about Roberts latest CD a least, but will nee some time to study and digest it. My last review of the Kripplkrunk album was premature. I have been listening to it for about 2 months now and have discovered some many levels that I did not hear prior to writing the review. I don't want to make that mistake again.
 Keep The Beat,
Tom