Not to sound Santa-monious, but last Christmas Eve, I could swear I heard banjo music coming from the parlor. A few nifty fiddle tunes, the āCumberland Mountain Bear Chase,ā and a hearty rendition of āJingle Bells.ā See, along with cookies … Continue reading →
This story is about two old, dear friends. One friend was animated with a touch of fuss and feathers, and so much talent. The other, a tad more wooden; comprised of mother of pearl and abalone inlay, some nickel silver … Continue reading →
Astonished was I. No, make that surprised beyond belief when I saw what Judith Zweiman and Paul Lubniewski posted on Facebook. It was an old club announcement from City Folk Nights at the The Sun Mountain CafĆ© promoting the schedule … Continue reading →
If one did not look too closely at the text of the proceedings of The Flagler County Commissionās misguided attempt to discredit Floridaās renowned troubadour and storyteller, one might surmise we had found ourselves entangled in the narrative of one … Continue reading →
Introduction The folks at Frets magazine taught me a valuable lesson back in the 1980s; they taught me that writing can be a dangerous vocation. This is particularly the case in the Lone Star State where I learned that carrying … Continue reading →
As if there wasnāt enough on my mind, the big show drew nigh. I arrived at the festivalās motel hospitality suite that August of 1989, dropped off my instruments and went to my car for a backpack. Within minutes, Philadelphia … Continue reading →
Letās imagine the existence of a country where thereās no music. No, make that where there is music, but only a small percentage of the population can afford to listen to music, due to a patchwork of archaic laws, political … Continue reading →
The weekend prior to Pete Seegerās passing at the age of 94, an ironic, and in retrospect, provocative call came from Oscar Brand. This before I had any knowledge of Peteās illness. āHello Roger, this is Oscar. Iām calling to … Continue reading →
Thinking about the musical question āDid you ever wake up with bullfrogs on your mind?,ā the response for me is a āyes.ā With deference to David Brombergās fine rendition of “Bullfrog Blues” (the one I first heard), I Rana come … Continue reading →
Snail mail we call it, but in the days before textual rapid transit, when a long distance phone call carried horridly steep per-minute charges, a typed or handwritten letter was an effective way to communicate. Perhaps letter composition took more … Continue reading →
