Stories and tales from a guitar-picking writer, theologian, speaker, blogger and entertainer. From small town quirks to the bizarre realities of family, whacky church life and slightly damaged kinfolk, insights from a reluctant son of the South takes you along. Never know where it’ll end up but it’s sure to be worth the trip.
A world of trouble going on, and everybody’s talking about it. I had emergency retinal reattachment surgery last Friday, and I’m stuck at home this week getting over it. Helplessly watching the mess of a world. A dear friend, Miss Jeanie, the hospice nurse who sat with my Dad until he died and me until they took his body, just went through surgery. It went well. But I owe her for being with me on that terrible day, forever. I’m sending her all the gospel songs I have on CDs to listen to. She loves that music. But I have … Continue reading Troublesome Waters
I have a modest guitar collection if you compare to some. Each instrument I have and play, though, is as unique as a child. Each has its own “voice,” and no two instruments are exactly alike, even if they are … Continue reading A Guitar for Christmas: Remembering Dad
Amid the intense battles in this political moment, a most exciting development for the MAGA faithful is that the President has appointed himself Chair of the Kennedy Center. MAGA world is positively abuzz with excitement as the venue promises a pro-America makeover. Kentucky Fried Chicken, Carl’s Junior, and McDonalds are planning concession booths as the the stars of the far, far, far right jockey for seats and luxury boxes. According to the New York Times, “Stephen K. Bannon, the longtime Trump adviser, thinks there should be an opening night performance of the J6 Prison Choir, made up of men once … Continue reading The Kennedy Center and Lara Trump’s Big Break*
Some years back Vickie and I vacationed near Boone, NC, home of Doc Watson. We stayed in a place with a view of Grandfather Mountain and traipsed around in the Smokies for a week. It was great. We ventured over to Wilkesboro, NC where the events remembered in the old murder ballad “Tom Dooley” happened. There are many versions of the story and many versions of the song, but here is a more traditional one I recorded a few years ago more in the style of Doc. Read a most interesting piece on the migration of lowland Scottish people to … Continue reading Tom Dooley
I have a modest guitar collection if you compare to some. Each instrument I have and play, though, is as unique as a child. Each has its own “voice,” and no two instruments are exactly alike, even if they are identical models. Each piece of wood sounds a little different from all the others. You learn this if you are a serious player.
Instruments have their oddities, too. Sometimes, tuning is not precisely right on every fret, or the “feel” of the instrument varies. Some applies to guitars, violins, banjos, mandolins, any instrument of wood and wire. This eccentricity, like that of human voices, is a source of delight, not frustration. The reason I generally hate a lot of electronically created music is the sameness of it.
Human voices are like that. I like gravely voices, deep voices, angelically soft voices, and raspy voices. Each voice expresses who that human being is, at least in part.
My very first guitar of my own was a Yamaha FG-230 Twelve String guitar. My parents got if for me for Christmas of 1971, I think. I had started playing music with two great friends who were musicians.
With Woody and Paul, Christmas 1971. Instead of new sweaters.
Both would go on to professional music careers, one still in it. My friend Woody had a Hoffner bass like Paul McCartney played in the early Beatles’ music, but that year got a Fender Jazz bass. Paul, who already played a Fender Telecaster like a pro by age 17, got a Yamaha six string the same Christmas. We both loved old country music and bluegrass. Paul introduced me to everything else in the world–he liked all kinds of things, from Grand Funk Railroad to Dillard and Clark to the Incredible String Band.
The Flatpickin' Pilgrim's Progress 