The Carolina Theater, Greensboro, NC

It’s been almost a week since I came back from Greensboro. I’m finding out that the slightest passage of time erases the details when they’re not written down. Seems like this is why I stopped writing a blog years ago. It just gets to be a job after a while trying to remember what went on, who I talked to, place names, etc. I’ve heard it said and I’ve said it myself but it is true that after a while it all really does start to run together. That’s not to discount anyone’s contributions or enjoying a place. Certainly not. But the job is a lot the same sequence of events, the same processes over and over again like any other job a person can have. It is not to say that I am no longer amazed that I can walk out onto any sort of platform or floor and bang away on a mandolin in the fashion that I do and be able to influence my fellow humans and get a reaction back, an energy exchange, and usually have positive feedback every 3-4 minutes. It never fails to amaze me that I can do this and people will pay money for it. I must be one of the luckiest people on earth. Thanks, everybody. It means a lot that we have our interactions.

I’ll do my best to remember last Saturday and Sunday...

I left Boone around noon on Saturday morning. The day was sunny and I had plenty of time to get to Greensboro. I opted to just go straight to Greensboro instead of foraging and eating along the way. The older I get the less road food I can stand. I always look for good places to stop and sit down and have a relaxed meal when there’s time, preferably some place I never heard of before. The fast food alternative is really a good way to make you feel like hell for the rest of the day. Yelp has become one of the most used apps on my phone for restaurants. Every exit off the freeway goes to either Cracker Barrel, Burger King, McDonalds, Wendy’s, Taco Bell, Waffle House, Subway, Dairy Queen, Arby’s Denny’s, Dunkin Donuts, etc…nothing good for you. So I drove to Greensboro nonstop.

On the way down the mountain from Boone I turned on the radio and found myself listening to a really good oldtime band playing fiddle tunes and all sorts of stuff. I forget the name of the show and the performers, but the show was coming out of Mount Airy. I listened to the radio a long ways past Wilkesboro and on into Winston-Salem. Seems like the area is about the only place in the country I recall traveling through where a person can get bluegrass and oldtime radio regularly. It’s really refreshing to hear the live stuff, some of it sounding like regular home folks just playing music. No hype, no BS, just music. Now and again I’d turn the sound down and let my brain ramble and pay attention to the scenery, take a break. There seems to be a lot of Christmas tree farms in this part of the country with thousands and thousands of trees all shaped like cones and in different stages of development. Beings we’re so close to the holidays there were lots of signs up advertising “pick and cut” sales on trees, all pretty discreet advertisements except for one farm that had two giant inflatable black apes standing on either side of the driveway that were impossible to miss. On down the mountain…

On my way through Wilkesboro I thought of all the years that the Nashville Bluegrass Band had played Merlefest, seems like every year it had been in existence until the year after Doc Watson died. We haven’t worked the festival since. A lot of things have changed since Doc is gone and it’s sad, but nothing can stay the same. I really miss working a lot of gigs with NBB. It felt like the band took off like a rocket right from the beginning and we were working the scene, making strides, being creative and getting things done. But it really seems like there’s not a lot of older acts that’re still putting it out there, save a few headliners. The rest are young acts, new faces, new chemistry mixing old sounds and new. I guess we were once those folks. I wish I’d paid more attention and took better care of my opportunity when it was current, but since when can you tell a kid anything?! Sigh…

I saw a fair number of plant farms and large nurseries along the freeway to Greensboro. I’ve pretty much always thought that if I wasn’t playing music for a living I’d see if I could get a job in one of the large nurseries and just tote and fetch and take care of plants. I’ve never done it to that scale though and I don’t even know if I’d like the work. It just always seemed that it would be work that would suit me, something kind of peaceful to do that would give a body a workout. I passed a sign on the way that said Old Stage Road that got me wondering how many miles of old stagecoach roads are still in existence in the US. I remember seeing a very visible stagecoach road along the freeway in spots in southern California earlier this year. Made me think of Monroe’s tune “Old Stagecoach”. Ramble, ramble, ramble. My brain jumps from one thing to the next, but that’s why I drive in silence a lot of the time. Silence is at a premium in this business and sometimes I drive for hours and hours and don’t make a sound. Just think, or watch for redtail hawks. I’ve been inspired by them since I was a kid and I think if I have a totem a hawk is probably it. It’s the strength and graceful power in them and on the flip side, the raw savageness when necessary that attracts me.

I made my way into Greensboro by 1p and found my hotel, the Biltmore. It is just around the corner from the Carolina theater where we were playing that night. It’s an old 3-story hotel from 1903 that started out its life as an office building. The hotel has the first unmanned (unwomaned?) elevator in Greensboro installed in 1920 and still used today. There is a sign in the front window that welcomes all sexes, persuasions, genders, races, ages, etc. Everyone is welcome here, even the spirits. Apparently there are two ghosts that inhabit the hotel, one in room 332, my room! I didn’t know about it until after I’d gotten home. Here’s a video of some ghost busters trying to communicate with “Phillip”…https://youtu.be/WlAi1XNOluo. There is a ghost named Lydia that haunts room 223. I didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary while I was there so I guess Phillip and Lydia were out on the town. Once I got checked in I went out looking for a bite to eat, not having anything to eat all morning. Unbeknownst to me our gig coincided with Greensboro’s “Festival of Lights”, so the downtown area was thick with pedestrians. I heard a parade going on and walked towards the sound and turned a corner just in time to see a giant gingerbread man nearly in reclining position going up the street. I started to watch the parade except I was hungry enough to eat a frozen dog so I headed back down the street. I was offered a Bernie Sanders handout on the way back down by a woman that looked even older than Bernie Sanders. Egad. The only thing I could find that was within a close walk of the hotel that wasn’t slammed was a little pizza joint that had a decent New York style pizza. Everything else was packed. Back to the hotel after a few slices and over to soundcheck by 4p. The Carolina theater is a refurbished gem. A wondrous old chandelier hangs high up in the middle of the ceiling and shines over rows of the most beautiful dark green seats. The carpet is a reproduced art deco pattern that was originally in the theater and there was enough of it to use a swatch to recreate the carpet that is on the floor now. Outstanding. The marquis outside above the front door is three-sided and on the side nearest the “Carolina” sign it read “The Gathering”. Nice. That’ll make a guy feel at home. I really didn’t get a chance to see a lot more of the theater but what I saw was gorgeous and well-cared for. It’s obvious the city loves this place.

I got a call from my oldest sister Jan in the afternoon letting me know that she and part of my family on that side were going to be in attendance. Jan, my niece Crissy, her husband Brandon, their daughter Ava and son Joe. I never saw them until about midway through the show. Crissy ran up the aisle and gave me a big hug and we visited for a few. Then I saw them again after the show. Jan had brought me an old cooler with two large pans of cornbread stuffing, our mother’s recipe. God, I love the stuff. Jan makes it by feel but made an effort to measure this time to see if she can come up with a recipe. I’ve been after somebody in the family to show me the recipe for years and there ain’t one. I’m only part way into the first pan so once I’m through both Jan said she’d give me the recipe if they tasted similar. Anyway, I saw a few folks I haven’t seen in a while including long tall Molly McGinn, a friend of Laurelyn’s and a good singer/writer in her own right.

I didn’t get to visit but about 20 minutes with my relatives before they were having to leave because it was Joe’s (and my) bedtime. So I went back to the hotel and changed clothes, came down and made the cornbread dressing grab and they sped off into the night. I went up and had a beer and a small bag of Fritos and watched the tube for a few before I strapped on the cpap and went to lahlah land. Tomorrow it’s a 7 hour drive home. More on that later, but for now I’ll say I had a good 8-9 days of musical focus and contemplation. I’m going home feeling like I earned my keep, but there’s a lot more to do, stuff left undone and unaddressed. If I can summon up the energy…

Life is good.

MC