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Notes from the Road – Gamble Rogers 2009

From Friday, May 1 to Sunday, May 3 we gathered at the St. Johns County Fairgrounds in Elkton, FL, west of St. Augustine for three days of music celebrating to life of one of our own, the late, great Gamble Rogers. I hope you are familiar with Gamble’s life and work. If not, here’s a little bit about him.

Florida Times Union columnist, Ron Johnson, wrote in his Friday edition:

The son and grandson of influential architects, Gamble Rogers was described as both a "modern troubadour" and the "resurrection of Will Rogers and Mark Twain". Rogers was a master performer--enchanting an audience with Travis-style guitar finger picking and relating downright rib-tickling tales about the inhabitants of the fictitious Oklawaha County.

The Atlanta Constitution called Rogers, "an American treasure worthy of inclusion in the Smithsonian". Rogers was just hitting his peak when he died, on October 10, 1991, trying to save a man from drowning. The recreational area in Flagler County, where the accident occurred, was later renamed, "The Gamble Rogers Memorial Park".

Gamble was universally revered and loved by his fellow musicians and fans alike. Gamble never met a stranger and his gracious assistance to young up and coming artists is legendary. Known for many philosophical witticisms like “the Lord gives me grace, but the devil gives me style”, “sorry is as sorry does” and “life’s what happens to you while you’re making other plans” Gamble was the perfect blend of master storyteller and musician. Many songs have been written honoring Gamble, but my personal favorite was written by my friend Steve Gillette who I think fully captured his spirit:

I remember Gamble Rogers,
He was a gentleman with a guitar,
He’s gone on a little further now,
A little deeper in the stars,
He went down into the water,
To help to save a drowning man,
And he left this world,
Holding out his hand.

It’s been my great privilege to participate in this gathering for many years now and have been looking forward to this second edition in the new location at the St. Johns County Fairgrounds.

Friday, May 1

You may recall that I’ve been having trouble with my car battery when I hook up my camper lights to the car. Or, maybe you don’t. For you it doesn’t really matter. As for me, I unfortunately did not remember it until Friday morning when I was preparing to load up. Shoot! Off to Costco I went to get a new battery. While I was there I also picked up one of those portable jump start units – handy looking thing. I didn’t have time (or rather didn’t want to take the time) to install the new battery (in an Expedition its not as easy as it should be), but at least I’d have the new battery and the jump start unit in case I got stranded.

Back home I loaded up my gear, my Samplers for presales of the new CD and some things I might need if called to Tallahassee for the arrival of the new granddaughter (yeah, the little bugger is still stuck in there despite continual warnings of imminent commencement of the birthing journey). Off I went and was surprised to arrive at the fairgrounds nearly ½ hour before I expected.

All was in order. I was issued my artist’s pass and given directions to my campsite. I drew a wonderful spot – right next to Larry Mangum. That wasn’t what made it so wonderful, though it was clearly a bonus. Rather it was the shade from the big oak that would protect my roof from the broiling sun most of the day. Bill & Eli Perras thought it looked pretty good too and, though without access to power or water, they elected to join us there under the oaks.

We were soon engaged in a songswap over at Larry’s with Charlie Simmons, Jack (oops, can’t remember), Bill & Eli, Jen Weidley, Chuck & Pat Spano, Grant Peeples and probably others that at this writing two days later I can’t recall. I introduced Grant to the wonders of Gorilla Snot (it’s a real product, I’m not making it up) – a pine resin product that helps you keep your grip on your guitar pick in sweaty or other conditions adverse to guitar pickers. I believe it changed Grant’s life, though probably not as much as some of you might have hoped.

The weather Friday was magnificent – cool in the shade and breezy, crystal clear and springtime fresh. The songswap would have gone longer, but Larry started serving some red wine which at that afternoon hour brought on the drowsies in some. Me, I had to go check my CD’s in at the product table and circulate among the other arrivals so I put away the guitar and set off. In truth, I figured on finding someone who was camped over close to where the fish fry was to take place at 6 p.m. Succeeded too, as Al Scortino, reliable for such as this, had parked his Casita within spittin’ distance of where the line would form. So, with a beer in hand (that vendor opened early and was doing a brisk trade) I ambled over and infiltrated the Ashley Gang crowd. Sure enough, we got some of the first fish out of the oil and feasted our fill.

The evening schedule featured some of my real favorites. My good friend Jack Williams started things off with his usual stellar set that left folks hollering for more and all the guitar pickers considering another line of endeavor. He was followed by Tracy Grammer and The Rowan Brothers with wonderful performances. Then our own one man band sensation, Ben Prestage, came on to prove that all that caterwauling about how good he is actually sells him short. He’s a serious showstopper. Those guitar pickers in the crowd that had managed to recover from the humiliation of watching the mastery of Jack Williams were beset with a new wave of discouragement regarding their own abilities and I’m sure many a guitar came close to violent disposal or cheap sale.

Once the main stage wrapped up I discovered one significant negative to my beautiful campsite. Turns out the evening contra dance that often doesn’t end until people are too exhausted to stand was taking place on the Pickers Stage with 100 feet of my rolling abode. Not to worry – I was running my AC unit and I came equipped with foam ear plugs for just such a situation.

The campsite songswaps were more active and widespread than I can recall in recent years. It was terrific. I started over with Jerry Mincey’s crowd, then filtered down to the Mayhaws’ area where I found Lis Williams and Lolly Rogers (Gamble’s daughter). Lis sang some harmonies with me on Banks of the Old St. John’s which was fun. She was not camping and soon made her preparations to head out. She had a tin cup of Irish Whiskey that some provided her and that she hadn’t finished. Knowing exactly where it would be most welcome she blessed me with its care and disposal, swearing me to faithfully return the cup to its owner when its contents were expended. A fine and bonnie Lass she is!

I next found myself at the rough camping segment of the Ashley Gang – Al, of course, long since absent and gone back to the Casita to enjoy AC and deep slumber. David Russell and his lovely bride Ann were there, David kind of sitting right in the middle of things adding accompaniment to whatever was being played. Since we had played it at Folk Alliance together back in February (check back at those Notes for the background on that) he joined me very capably on This Old House. Glenn Smith and his far better half were there with a tune or two. Larry Mangum slide in from the dark at some point. Soon Jack Williams showed up to trade licks and an encyclopedic recall of a vast catalog of old tunes with Russell. Grant Peeples was in there too, begging more Gorilla Snot. He took to putting a gob of it on the bill of his cap so it would be handy whenever he needed it. Of course, all of the Ashley Gang was there, Michelle, Norm and the couple Garfinkle (Al in abstentia of course already sawing logs). Again, I know there were many more that I’m overlooking and please pardon me for the omissions.

By a little after 1 a.m. I realized that I was exhausted and stumbled my way through the campground lights back to my traveling bedroom. I’ve been carrying my cell phone waiting for the stork to call, but nothing yet. Tomorrow I’m on the Old Town Stage. G’night.

Saturday, May 2

I woke up way too early, but I think I got enough sleep to survive anyway. I stumbled over to the artists’ hospitality area for some coffee and breakfast. All kinds of folks were wandering through and really don’t remember everyone I ended up chatting with while I was there. The hospitality for the artists at Gamble Rogers is always first rate and gracious, just like the festival’s namesake.

I spent a fair part of the morning in the camper restringing the guitar, making a set list, practicing, working on some new tunes, etc. And, of course, I kept checking to see if there was any baby alert – nothing. I went on back over to the hospitality area for some lunch, chatted a while with the Dean of Florida folk, Frank Thomas, and numerous others filtering through. I also ran into my old friend Bob Higgenbotham who plays the festival every year – we only live about 45 miles apart (he in Winter Haven), yet we see each other more often at Gamble than anywhere else these days. That’s a large part of the joy of these gatherings is connecting again with so many great folks.

I got to be part of a terrific line-up on the Old Town Stage. Magda Hiller had drawn a good crowd over and I got to enjoy her set. What a great, great performer she is! She had Jack Schwade with her which added another layer to the high luster of her show.

Charlie Robertson, who was to play after me, was doing a quick stand in as emcee and asked me what I wanted said as my introduction. “Aw Charlie,” I says, “just make some lie up that’ll make me sound good.” So, Charlie hops up on the stage and hollers “Please welcome one of the truly great Florida songwriters, Doug Spears.” Now, I ask you, since I told him to lie . . . hummmph! I gave ‘em 6 good ‘uns – This Old House, State of Dreams, On the Other Side, Marker 26, A Mothers’ Tears and Yellow Butter Moon. I also told them about the new CD (I love bragging about the stellar line-up I’ve got on there) and afterwards several folks grabbed me to buy the pre-sales sampler.

I stuck by to hear Charlie’s set – he is just one of those amazing songwriters who can see every little thing from every possible perspective and picks the one that should be obvious, but which you hadn’t considered to write about. It just knocks your socks off. He also is given to unpredictable commentary that makes you laugh until you hurt. You shouldn’t miss any chance to hear Charlie perform.

Next I hustled back to the camper, dropped the guitar, etc. there and headed over to the Big Top. Missy Raines (my bass player on 8 tracks on the new CD - brag, brag, brag) has rolled in with her exciting band, Missy Raines and The New Hip, for their two mainstage performances. Husband, Ben Surratt, was hustling about running their sound and I took a seat at the railing right behind him. I let him get everything settled during their first couple of tunes then leaned forward, tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a cold beer I just acquired from that busy vendor on my way in. It seemed one of the more welcome hellos he’d had! At his invitation I circled around at sat at the board with him for the show and thoroughly enjoyed Missy’s set.

What a GREAT band – I mean top to bottom superb surrounding Missy’s incomparable bass. Their album, Inside Out, just released on Compass Records, is terrific CD that I highly recommend to everyone. However, I have to admit that for me seeing Missy play is so wonderful I close me eyes when I listen to the CD so I can imagine her groovin’ around through the tunes. Just how much she loves what she does shouts out from every twist, turn and hop and the sounds she produces from that big stand up bass are not to be believed unless you hear her while seeing it with your own eyes. After they finished I went around backstage for a hug and a hello. Ben’s beer had already drawn jealous glances from the band and I feared that my failure to bring a whole tray might put me in jeopardy, but Missy fended them off for me.

By this time, with a beer or two in my gullet, I began to feel a bit peckish. Over at the hospitality hut I sat and chatted with Ben and Missy a bit about life in general and the progress of the CD project. Then the more serious hunger began setting in. They weren’t yet ready to lay out the supper spread yet so I wandered back over to the Big Top looking for Jason Thomas (my producer and fiddler for Gatorbone and Claire Lynch) who was to have arrived to warm up with Gatorbone for their 7 pm set and bring me some material from the CD. To my dismay I found that Jason was stuck in a major traffic back up on I-95 and would not be making it for the show – shoot!

So, I hooked up with Lis & Lon Williamson and Lolly Rogers for a little supper. Then I settled in for the excellent Saturday evening line-up. My absolute favorites, Gatorbone kicked it into gear at 7 pm. They were sans Jason Thomas (who ended up turning back in the face of hours of backup on I-95), but they still rocked! There is no finer singer than Lis Williamson, nor a better rhythm gypsy jazz guitar player. And, if you lined up 25 guitar players and had them perform the same licks I could pick Gabe Valla out blindfolded. The tone he creates is so clean and crystal clear that it can’t be confused with any other, truly one of a kind. Lis and Lon sent goosebumps through the crowd with their duo performance of Love Hurts – WOW! And, Kurt Johnson is a stellar addition to the group on pedal steel and keyboards. The rest of the night had a high bar set by Gatorbone!!

Willy Claflin came next with his recreation of Gamble’s signature music and stories. He ain’t Gamble, but he’s close! It was a fitting and well received presentation for this crowd.

Jesse Winchester alone on stage is a treat for any lover of the pure craft of songwriting. His songs have been recorded by everyone in the business and have been sung, hummed and enjoyed by every one of us, whether we knew it at the time or not. His easy going, homespun Memphis manner is deadly and the audience was charmed from the first note.

Next, my bass player (I love saying that!), Missy Raines and The New Hip laid another stellar set on the crowd to close the night. Call it “jazz-grass” or whatever you like – this group is HOT! Stop, Drop & Wiggle, Basket of Singing Birds and Inside Out seemed like crowd favorites. This is a group that makes you move. The musicianship and arrangements are stunning.

Back out in the campground the song circles and jams were in full swing. I started out right at my own camper with Ron & Bari Litschauer, Stan Geberer, Jeannie Fitchen (Ned lending moral support) and Clyde and Lorelli Walker (though Clyde elected to assume the position of listener and star gazer in the background). Ken Buchanan brought a couple of chairs over and sat to enjoy the show. John Alison soon joined us with his tasteful backing and beautiful OM and then Jack Williams ambled in to add his signature licks to the mix. Several others migrated in whose names I don’t know and for a while there it got to be a pretty sizeable jam. However, the Roadside Revue folks and the Walkers needed to head home to the Walker abode in St. Augustine and things broke up at the camper around 1:30 or so.

I had played enough, but felt like listening some more so I wandered the grounds with a little refreshment in hand. I sat at the Ashley Gang area for a bit and listened to David Russell, Michelle, Carly Bak and others swap tunes and licks. Over at the Mayhaws settlement a HUGE crowd had gathered. As I pushed into a spot where I could lean and watch Grant Peeples was holding court. Jack Williams was in there as well. Dale Crider and Rod MacDonald were in the mix and many, many more.

Starting to droop I began the wander back, stopped by Jerry Mincey’s fire and chatted a bit, then meandered on back to the bunk on wheels - 3:30 is late enough for me! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ . . . .

Sunday, May 3

As you might guess, I slept in a bit waking just in time for lunch . . . barely. I headed over for a burger and a hot dog at the hospitality area (and a LOT of coffee). I wasn’t to play until 3:40 on the Florida Stage, but I had plenty of cleaning up and departure preparations to take care of, so I got busy. As I cleaned and organized I ran into one and another friends and began the goodbyes. Sunday was a good bit warmer, more like the usual Gamble weather we’ve had for the past few years, but the breeze kept blowing which helped a bit.

Before I knew it 3:00 was upon me. I headed on over to hear Charlie Robertson who preceded me on the Florida Stage as I got ready for my set. I started off with Banks of the Old St. Johns, Heminway’s Hurricane and State of Dreams, then by prearrangement Ron & Bari Litschauer and Stan Geberer joined me and we rocked ‘em with Teppintine, Withlacoochee Dreamer, There’s Always a Middle and Steam Train. I love playing with those guys and they add so much to the performance. When we were finished Rod MacDonald closed the Florida Stage and another Gamble Rogers Festival was in the can.

I went and collected my CD $$ and product from the sales area and quickly loaded and hooked up to the rolling behemoth. Many more goodbyes were exchanged. However, with the afternoon heat I was glad to get into the airconditioned car and I was off for the run home. See you next year Mr. Rogers!

Notes from the Road – Barberville Spring Frolic 2009

If you’ve never been to the Pioneer Settlement for the Creative Arts in Barberville you really are missing one of the most interesting, quaint villages in Central Florida. The Settlement consists of many acres of land covered with historical buildings that have been moved to the grounds from the central Florida area. Native crafts (blacksmithing, woodworking, turpentine manufacturing, quilting, etc.) are demonstrated on the grounds periodically and twice a year the folk music community descends for a couple of days of terrific acoustic music. The stages are set up inside some of the buildings (the Church and the Barn are my favorites) and some are outdoors under canvas canopies. In all, 6 stages of music run from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. with the Barn stage continuing on until 11 pm on Saturday night.

Friday, April 24

In the past I’ve not camped at the Spring Frolic as the weather tends to be hot and, in some years, very wet. It’s only about 1 hour and 20 minutes from Orlando, so it’s not a big deal to go back and forth. However, this year the weather is predicted to be very comfortable and I hate to miss the late night pickin’ in the camping area, so I’m hauling the camper on over. Judy has to stay home and care for her dad so I’m flying solo on this trip.

I got hooked up and underway by about 3:30. It’s a pretty easy drive, just east on I-4 to Lake Helen, into Deland, take the bypass around downtown and catch 17 north up through Deleon Springs to Barberville. The only interesting part of the drive is the last few miles on 17 – otherwise just regular old highway and town roads.

I’ve been having a problem with my car’s electrical system when I tow the trailer. For some reason hooking the trailer lights, etc. to the car puts a tremendous draw on the battery and it starts with difficulty after just a short time. I stopped in Deland to pick up some supplies and shut the car down – mistake. When I came back out and tried to crank back up all I got was that rapid clicking sound that lets you know you’ve got trouble. Lucky for me there was a guy parked next to me in a big F150 Ford pick-up chatting on his cell phone and, learning of my situation, agreed to assist with jumper cables. Vvvrrrooommm – On the road again . . .

I swung into the campground right at 5:30 and quickly located a somewhat shady spot right next to my friend Doug Purcell. In no time I was unhooked and set up (I let the car continue to idle for about 20 minutes after disconnecting the trailer to let the battery recover). Soon I was sipping a beer and chatting with all the musicians that had gathered early, enjoying the evening breeze and the cooling air.

Joe and Katie Waller are the pair responsible for this bi-annual event. The job of organizing a festival of this size is a herculean, thankless task and they do a magnificent job. Besides the setting in the historical pioneer settlement, another unique aspect of the program is that all stages are 100% acoustic – no sound amplification of any kind and all acoustic instruments. Some find that daunting, but I love it. The acoustics in buildings like the Church are fabulous and its so much fun to be able to perform free of microphones, speakers, wires and such. It really creates a connection with the audience that is “house concert like” though in a more formal setting. In addition, there are no Emcees – each stage has a large clock on a stand directly in front of the performer and you are expected to start and conclude your show on time. While you might think that would lead to time problems with no one in charge, the opposite is actually true – the musicians are fastidious in respecting the time schedule and everything runs . . . well . . . like clockwork. That was a Joe Waller innovation a couple of years back and was a master stroke!

I circulated and sipped a while and then decided to fix a little something to eat – a heaped turkey sandwich did me just fine. I brought some boiled peanuts and some ice cream for later if I get snacky. Time to hit the song circles.

I quickly settled in with James Hawkins, Leigh and Steve Humes, Mike Worral and Larry Mangum. We began swapping tunes, some truly great tunes. Larry’s got a new one which I’m guessing is called ‘These are the Times of Our Lives’ that’s gonna be a crowd favorite. I kept dreggin up old ones that I rarely play and have never been recorded. Mike Worral is also one heck of a writer who I’ve not had the chance to sit and appreciate before. It seemed like in no time at all the tequila had suffered mortal injury and, well, it just got late all of a sudden. Everyone started to sag around midnight and I settled back into the camper for a late night snack, a little reading and some serious zzzz’s. Tomorrow things get under way.

Saturday April 25th

With all the windows open (no electricity in this camping facility, just open ground and trees) I woke to the melodious sounds of Triad (Doug Purcell with Carl and Barbara Wade) as they rehearsed for their 10 a.m. set. Charley Groth was also there and soon he was running tunes with the various folks he had joining him for his shows. I made coffee on the gas stove (the old fashioned way) while I washed the night from my face. Then, armed with coffee, I ventured forth to check in at the musicians’ table and start thinking about my day. I’m starting off with a noon show in the Church, one of my favorite stages. I’m a little nervous about my voice – it still seemed a little weak last night, apparently still recovering from my Will McLean illness. I restrung my guitar over a second cup of coffee and then fixed myself a little breakfast (hard boiled eggs and fruit). Now with third cup of coffee in hand I began to consider my set list for the first show.

I tested the voice and it really seemed ok, though not full strength and I didn’t want to strain it. So I eased into Banks of the Old St. Johns, Teppintine, Hemingways Hurricane, Marker 26 and Steam Train. Everything seems fine, so I’m ready.

The Church, while one of my favorite stages, is sometimes not as well attended as others. Audiences can be really small – in past years often as few as 8 to 10. However, today folks are out and looking for music (and, hopefully, for me). I had around 30 or better for this first show, a great turn out. Lots of old friends, but many new faces as well. The voice really worked well (a few cracks and yodels, but nothing embarrassing) and the set went without a hitch. I added many new names to my mailing list and sold a couple of CD’s too. Terrific start.

After chatting outside the Church with a few folks I headed over to do my songwriting workshop with Larry Mangum. I never find one hour workshops to be very productive in terms of really imparting much information on the craft itself, but I was looking forward to this one because I enjoy Larry’s company. We had a small determined group in attendance, but as it came time to start, no Larry. Hmmmm . . . Oh well, we got started anyway and really had a nice one hour session – much more productive than the typical. The attendees were all business and knew what they wanted to ask and learn about. Quite a pleasure even without Sir Mango. Wonder what happened to him?

With that work done I was in need of nourishment. They have a hospitality area for the performers serving stew, cornbread, etc. and it fit the bill just fine. I sat and chatted with some old friends and as I was finishing up I happened to look over at a table under one of the Chickees and there was Larry Mangum! So, I went over, chastised him (to his great embarrassment) for ditching the workshop (which he totally forgot as he was sitting in with some other musicians on their set) and informed him that I would be taking his half of the workshop fee. What is half of zero anyway? Also sat and chatted a bit with Ron and Mary (soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Johnson) about their upcoming CD release and the status of mine.

Lots of time to kill now as my next set isn’t until 7 pm. I headed back to the camper to take care of some housekeeping issues, write a little of this stuff here and otherwise chill. My laptop battery had expired so I went over to the Settlement schoolhouse and sat in one of the old desks (a tight fit) and plugged into an outlet to recharge while I worked. An older fellow came over and talked to me for a bit. Turns out he is from Pierson and as an elementary school kid had gone to school in the very building in which we sat. In fact, he allowed as how he had gotten the only “F” in his life in that very classroom – it taught him not to argue with the teacher!! Interesting fellow and I enjoyed out chat.

Back in the camping area I sat over with Doug Purcell, Rick Kennedy and Denise Adams while I constructed my set list for my evening Barn set. The evening lineup in the Barn is quite special – everything else shuts down except for the dance stage and you always have a great crowd for the Barn on Saturday night. I always appreciate being included. I settled on a song list of On the Other Side, Withlacoochee Dreamer, State of Dreams, Welcome Home, This Old House and Yellow Butter Moon.

That accomplished I practiced a bit back at the camper. Raven Stands Alone stopped by for a while as did Bill & Eli Perras, Brian and Tia Smalley and a couple of others. Idle time passes so quickly and soon I grabbed my gear and headed over to the Barn.

I got there in time to hear a little of Hannah’s Whirl (my friends Tami and Paul from Tampa) and Garrison Doles (my great songwriter compatriot from Orlando). Then, show time! As expected I had nearly a full house (was full if you counted the lingerers outside the back doors where the breeze was cooling the evening down. In that room I felt like I needed to push the vocals more to be heard throughout the room (and beyond) and I found that while I’m recovered from my Willfest ills my voice is still a little weak from lack of use. So, I had some more noticeable cracks and yodels early, but again nothing terrible or embarrassing. I truly enjoyed the set and the crowd response was awesome. There were mailing list fans there that I hadn’t seen in quite some time and lots of new faces as well. So much fun.

James Hawkins and Cold Harbor came next with their usual terrific set, then The Ashley Gang, another of my favorites (Al Scortino is, in my opinion, one of the best songwriters I know) and then the ever popular and superb M.T. Pawkets. What a great line up and a real treat to hear. Joe & Katie Waller with Jackson Creek finished out the night, but I confess that I had not yet eaten and I was feeling the considerable gravitational pull of that tequila. So, I ducked out and repaired to the campground for nourishment and refreshment.

Of course, others were already there and the song circles and jams were in full swing. So after my bite to eat I headed back over to the Cold Harbor campsite where my badly wounded tequila bottle had been left to languish. Larry Mangum, Mike Worral, Mike McKee, Raven Stands Alone and a couple others were in full song swap. I just listened for a bit, but then drug out the guitar. We were soon joined by James Hawkins, Leigh and Steve Humes (whose chairs, etc. we were already using in their absence), Ron & Mary Johnson, Jonathon and Sherry Hodge, Charlie Groth (and I’m sure I’m leaving someone out). Great, great, great song swap with some great players who could back any song that came up – quite a treat. I had a fair amount of help with the libations - the tequila finally succumbed to the beating it had sustained and lay dead on the field of battle. By midnight I was no longer able to concentrate enough to finish a song so off to bed I went, though I could hear others continuing on for hours after that. Nice cool evening with a refreshing breeze coming through the windows – holler if I snore!

Sunday September 26

Surprisingly, it got pretty cool last night and at one point I woke reaching for the blanket. I really slept well and didn’t roll out until around 8 a.m. I made coffee and worked a little on this epic chronicle for a while before venturing out. I visited hither and yon with these and those, circling back for more coffee when appropriate. Everyone is really enjoying the weekend of magnificent weather, great music and good friends. But, you already sense the restlessness that comes with knowing today it all ends and soon it’ll be time to pack up and head out.

My sole set on Sunday wasn’t until 2:30 back in the Barn, so I had plenty of time to futz around with things. I got my set list together – today I thought I’d do Annie’s Chairs, The One Not There, Break Some Stones, Okeechobee and, the only repeater for the weekend, Hemingway’s Hurricane. After establishing what I would play I cleaned up (as best I could with no running water, etc. – shower is first priority today when I get home) and then headed over to the Settlement buildings to recharge my computer battery and get some lunch from the hospitality area. I sat down to lunch and solved many of the world’s problems with Chuck and Varney Hardwicke and Joe Waller.

The only feature of the Pioneer Settlement that I am not fond of is the large aviary full of peacocks near the Barn and Sugar Cane stages and right across from where we were eating lunch. Peacocks, though beautiful, are noisy, irritating birds. This is even more so in the spring when they are full time engaged in activities of the amorous nature. The males are strutting, fanning and preening while the girls look just about as bored and put off as when us males try to show off by proving who can drink the most beer. They kept screeching and calling to the point that I was having murderous fantasies involving a guitar string garrote, colorful feathers and a BBQ.

Having finished lunch and settled most all of the pressing problems of mankind I headed back to get my gear for my show. I did not really expect to have much of a crowd for this show since I had stiff competition on other stages and the Sunday crowd tends to be lighter in any event. I got to the Barn in time to hear Triad (Doug Purcell, Carl Wade, Barbara Shaeffer and Rick Kennedy) do a very nice set including Will McLean’s Hold Back the Waters. Bill & Eli Perras, Bluesgotus, followed with a great set of their originals accompanied by Bill’s exceptional guitar licks, Chuck Spano’s tasteful percussion and Eli’s heartfelt and expressive vocals. Wonderful stuff.

To my surprise and pleasure I had a very nice crowd for a Sunday afternoon and the song selections fit right in with the mood. Having learned my lesson last night I took it easier and did not push the vocals so hard – all went well. Such a pleasure to play for lovers of the music there to listen and let you into their hearts.

Well, time to load up. Everyone was breaking down by the time I got back to the campground. My first order of business was to go fill up with gas so there’d be no stopping once I hooked up to the behemoth and started home. Alas, the strain of getting to Barberville Friday with the mysterious power drain on my battery had proved too much and the car just wouldn’t start. Fortunately Carl Wade had jumper cables reasonably handy and we used Doug Purcell’s car to get me cranked. I went on to the gas station and violated one of the usual rules – I left the car running while I pumped the gas. If I hadn’t it likely would not have restarted. No incident however and soon I was back at the campground putting things away and hooking up to get under way. Goodbyes were shared all around. Many of us will be at Gamble Rogers next weekend, but some I won’t see until the Florida Folk Festival towards the end of May. That’s as it is for this family of musicians and none of us would have it any other way.

Still no Granddaughter – ARRRGGGG!!! Next weekend, Gamble Rogers near St. Augustine at the St. Johns County Fairgrounds. Hope to see you there!

Notes from the Road – Will McLean Festival 2009



The kick off for the festival year here in the State of Dreams is the annual Will McLean Festival held near Dunnellon, FL the first weekend in April. It has been my privilege to perform at the festival for many years now and it is one of my true favorites. Conceived by Margaret Longhill to honor the memory and music of Will McLean, the festival features Florida’s best musicians and songwriters in a three day celebration of our roots, history and heritage. Including an award to honor the best new song written about Florida, which goes this year to my good friend Garrison Doles (I was thrilled to win the award back in 1997), the festival is a gathering of good friends, fans of the music and lovers of the State in an idyllic setting overlooking the beautiful Withlacoochee River. This year is its twentieth anniversary and, as always, the line up is truly stellar.



Thursday, April 2, 2009



Now, the festival doesn’t actually start until Friday and its less than two hours from home, but I’m anxious to get on site, get the camper set up, start chillin’ with good friends and start pickin’ some tunes. So, we got things organized at home, got the camper loaded and headed out by late afternoon. We were halfway there when I realized we had left my performer’s packet with my tickets, etc. at the house – figures. Well, hopefully someone will know me at the gate and I won’t have to pay to get in!



The wind was annoying all the way to Dunnellon – gusting and blowing the camper around on the road like a big metal sail hooked to my bumper. Passing semis and buses was exciting to say the least. But, we managed to get there without sideswiping anything. The Roadside Revue gang (Ron & Bari Litschauer, Dawn DeWitt and husband Charles, Stan Geberer and companion Cathy) had saved us space in their enclave along with Clyde and Lorelli Walker – great group of folks. We were soon settled and immediately into the social activities. Ron quickly provided me with a plastic cup with a good three finger measure of amber liquid. Hello’s, hugs, laughter and friendship all around.



There is traditionally a potluck on Thursday night for the early arrivals, but we didn’t come prepared for that so we repaired to the camper for a meal of leftovers from home. Then the guitars began to pop out. We had a great circle from dusk on with Ron. Bari, Dawn, Stan, Clyde and me and we were soon joined by Keith Hope and Mindy Simmons. I had a warranty issue with the cup Ron had provided me – the silly thing would not retain the liquid that had been poured there. Seemed like every time I turned around the darned thing had let the precious amber leach away into the night, so I had to keep rooting around in Ron’s camper to refill it!! Quite mysterious.



Suddenly, right around 11 p.m. a few ominous drops of rain fell and we all scrambled for guitar cases and cover. Time to turn in anyway. What a great beginning.



Friday, April 3, 2009



I don’t perform until Saturday, so Friday is a free day to relax. I had to run some errands in the morning, but got back in time to catch Clyde Walker on the Crypress stage accompanied by Ron Litschauer and Stan Geberer – great set. They were followed by the wonderful harmonies of Hannah’s Whirl (Tami & Paul, my friends from Tampa).



I’m starting to feel a little tickle in my throat, but I think its dust and irritation from stopping by my folks’ house (mom’s a smoker). So, I think I’ll head back to the trailer, practice a bit and perhaps sip a little of the old home remedy to clear the vocal chords. I plinked and plunked, thought about a song list for Saturday, chatted with the passers by and generally soaked up the beauty of the campground here on the banks of the Withlacoochee. No rain in the forecast until maybe Sunday, so that seems promising.



Judy came back and went down for a nap so I went for a walk about. I checked in my CD’s at the FOFF booth, bought Judy a Willfest T-shirt and checked out the vendors a bit. I’m still feeling that tickle in the throat and its starting to worry me. Back at the Roadside Revue enclave I chatted with the various inhabitants and relaxing in the afternoon breeze. It was soon supper time and we were feasted on burritos with the best chipotle sauce I’ve had in some time.



Roadside Revue was scheduled on the main stage at 7:30 so I made Judy and I some coffee, took our chairs and headed that way. These guys, besides being dear friends, have always been some of my favorite performers on stage. Not only is the music great, but the chemistry they have together is simply awesome. I’m never sure who is having more fun – those of us listening or them on stage. Clyde Walker added his fingerstyle wizardry to a tune or two and the half hour passed much too quickly.



However, during their rendition of Steve Blackwell’s “Gravel Road” I realized, unmistakably, that disaster has struck – I have a cold and it’s starting in my chest! I was singing along and noted to my great dismay that the high notes simply weren’t there – DAMN!! While I had planned to stay for the night’s line up on the Magnolia Stage and then play around the camp fires to the wee hours I took the safer course and headed to the trailer to begin consuming cold remedies and get some rest – we’ll see what happens. I HATE colds!!



Consequently, I missed the rest of the evening main stage line up. The word I got was that the Mayhaws, in particular, were exceptional. I emerged from the camper again at about 10 p.m. to let folks know that I wouldn’t be out and about that evening. Everyone leaped to my aid, of course, insuring I had whatever I needed to fight off this dastardly cold. One of the vendors was close by (I hope I’m remembering his name right, Tom Brown) whose specialty is a wide variety of hot sauces, pepper jams and pepper glazes – really good stuff. He made sure I was equipped with the right pepper stuffs to keep my sinuses clear (not yet the problem) and provided me with honey and limes to go back to the camper and make a good old fashioned hot toddy (I had the whiskey, of course). I said my good nights and hot toddying I went, fingers and toes crossed for a good result.



Saturday, April 4, 2009


Not a good start – I am VERY deep of voice this morning and my first attempts to make musical sounds come from my vocal chords sounds more like a really bad attempt at producing sound from an out of tune fiddle. I load up on more zinc, Echinacea, green tea extract, vitamin C, B-12, Mucsinex, Zicam, Advil, eye of bat, toe of newt (yeah, I’m at the desperate point for sure). I mixed another hot toddy (who cares if its 10 a.m.) to supplement my coffee and the heat does soothe my throat loosening it just a little. Judy headed on out to catch some of our favorites on stage leaving me to wrestle the vox gremlins.



I restrung my guitar while imbibing the warm liquids and made my first attempts. It was immediately obvious that singing in my usual key was out of the question so I began a chordal Easter egg hunt looking for a key that my limited range would allow on certain songs. Assuming I’m able a accomplish this it complicates the performance because I will need to be mentally converting chords and changes to different keys than what I’m used to playing without really even thinking about it. A large task for a pea brain such as I. I knew certain songs were out due to the range they require regardless of where you start. I wanted to have Ron & Bari Litschauer and Dawn (d’Otter) DeWitt join me on Teppintine, Steam Train and Hemingway’s Hurricane so I worked those out first – very deep, Barry White sounding versions I might add. Then I attacked a couple of other tunes that I could open with before they joined me on stage.



Armed with a battle plan, I went over and ran the tunes a time or two with the gang in the new keys. It seemed to go reasonable well. However, I did notice that as I was singing in that low range my voice appeared to be loosening a little. They went off to attend to other tasks and I went back to the camper and continued working the tunes. My voice was getting a bit more high range! However, it was also losing low range. Uh oh – time to change keys again!! Back to the drawing board. I readjusted, staying with the same somgs and about 1 p.m. I went over and shared the news with the guys that we were changing keys. They are professionals, but not above complaining! So we ran another little session in the new keys.



Now, I didn’t go on the main stage until 4 p.m., but I had agreed to MC the stage from 2 – 3:30. I did my shtick making announcements and pattering while the stage reset between performers and then intro’d the acts as they came on. All the while I’m noticing changes in my voice – not getting normal, but changing in pitch and range. Oh boy!



About 10 minutes before we hit the stage I broke the news to my compadres that, yet again, there would be changes in key. With doubtful and somewhat trepidatious looks they focused on my directions, said silent prayers and off I went to open my set. As we set up my sound my friend Raven Stands Alone recited a powerful poem, I Am Florida, which made a great introduction to the songs I had chosen. The moment of truth. With a little warning to the crowd that I may sound like a frog caught in car door at times I launched into Withlacoochee Dreamer – a few little vocal “yodels” but not too bad. I followed that with Yellow Butter Moon – again, no real catastrophe. At that point I hauled they guys out on stage. The energy you get playing with a band tends to transcend your preconceived notions of limitation and I started to push the old voice and give in to the music. What a fun set! We worked those three tunes for all they were worth and I let the voice growl through those points where I might have otherwise babied it – caution to the wind. Stan Geberer even jumped in on the closing number, Steam Train, and added that magnificent harmonica punch he carries. Judging from the crowd response it was a huge success and my thanks to the guys & gals for backing me so gamely and professionally – what a thrill!



However, I knew with the closing notes of Steam Train that my vocal chords had just taken a serious beating and if I had to sing one more line I wouldn’t have made it. I let it all out there on the stage on that one and clearly put my set on Sunday in serious doubt. Again we’ll have to wait and see.



Roadside Revue followed me on the Magnolia stage (which was very convenient since they were already set up to assist me) and put on yet another bang up show. As part of this set they introduced a new Dawn DeWitt song, Withlacoochee Way, that she literally wrote on Thursday – quite brave to test drive it on stage so soon. It’s a great song and I predict will be a hot contender for the Will McLean award next year.



Mission accomplished for the time being, we repaired to the Roadside Revue enclave for some vittles. Sweet and sour chicken, roast pork, rice, black beans (with some of that great hot sauce from our friendly next door vendor), salad, brownies – we eat better camping that most folks eat when they have friends over for supper! Of course, libations began to be consumed. Ron & Bari remained more conservative as they had additional duties later backing Frank Thomas in his set and Amy Carol Webb in her Will McLean tribute set. Sated with food and drink we trundled back to the main stage to catch Frank Thomas (the grand master), Grant Livingston and others leading up to Amy Carol’s slot. I confess that I missed much of the music as I kept getting pulled aside by this one and that to chat and catch up. And, I kept slipping back to the coffee concession to keep some warm on my throat. However, I knew that I was not going to recover and did not want to bail at the last minute leaving the stage slot tomorrow morning up in the air. So, I went ahead and gave the news to Margaret that I was bowing out of my Sunday performance. Jackson Creek (Joe & Katie Waller) will fill in ably. I’m disappointed, but at the same time glad to have performed well on the main stage today and not have the pressure of waiting out my vocal condition over night.



Amy Carol Webb’s set was awesome, as always. She has a well perfected stage persona that energizes the crowd like few I’ve seen. In keeping with the “tribute” these of the performance she was variously assisted by Jeanne Fitchen, Mindy Simmons, Ron & Bari, Annie Wenz, Grant Livingston and others throughout the show. A magnificent set followed by another one from Rod MacDonald, one of the few with the chops to hold a crowd after Amy gets done with them.



Obviously, campfire singing and playing is not in the cards for me tonight, so I settled into the role of appreciative listener. Judy opted for crashing early, so I left her behind with her book and bed and wandered to this fire and that hearing new tunes and saying hello. I got to hear a new song from Doug Purcell that really is going to do well. I saw my pals Mike & Goody Haines. Wandering down towards the river I passed the Cypress Stage which, after hours, becomes a well lit song circle with Tom Ellis at the helm and I could see Glenn Smith in the group as I sauntered by. I was looking for the Blackwell / Still Friends compound and on the way ran into my buddy Ally Smith who was hanging at a campfire of mostly the sound crew entertaining them with her wonderful voice. And then I found the Still Friends crowd. Lots of good friends and folks I hadn’t seen in some time. I heard, unfortunately, that Carrie Blackwell was similarly afflicted as me and had retired early. But the rest of the crowd was there and kickin’ it proud.



But, finally, the cold and aching throat dragged me away and to the camper. I dosed up yet again and set to the task of dreaming next to my bride.



Sunday, April 5, 2009



Good call on giving up my slot – I’m sick as a dog. I couldn’t sing if my soul depended on it. I’m afraid that the Singer’s Saving Grace I was squirting in my throat yesterday simply numbed it up (it’s largely alcohol) and deadened the pain letting me sing when I really shouldn’t. That’s the thing about pain – it has a purpose and when you mask it artificially you expose yourself to greater injury. In any event, my throat feels tight and swollen and my chest is turning into a brick.



So, we’ll probably just go ahead, pack up a little early and head on home. It has been a wonderful festival though. Terrific weather, warm but not uncomfortably hot during the day and cool at night. The rain has stayed away this year (it poured on us Saturday night last year). It has been an ideal 20th anniversary of this great festival and I’m already looking forward to the next one. As always, the entire staff has done a magnificent job under the direction of Margaret Longhill with the assistance of her sister Chris Lyle and a cadre of others. A production of this size is no small endeavor and they pull it off without a hitch.



We went ahead and got things organized to depart, then headed over to the main stage to catch Still Friends, Larry Magnum and Mike Jurgensen before hitting the road. It turns out I’m not the only one ailing – Carrie Blackwell – Hussey also lost her voice as did Clyde Walker. So, the crud is going around, watch out! After great sets from Still Friends, Larry Magnum and Mike Jurgensen we finished our preparations, said our goodbyes and hit the road.



Judy and I celebrate 25 years of marriage this month (April 21st) – it has been 25 wonderful, happy years for me (though only about 4 for her!). We will take a week to get away to the Caribbean to relax and reflect. Next stop musically is the Barberville Spring Frolic – hope to see you there!