I woke early and read Chesterton for awhile. He has such a high regard for maintaining a childlike sense of wonder about the world. It’s infectious.
I hit catering intent upon not overdoing it today and had a scramble with salsa and got out of there.
This venue, Edgefield, had a seventy-year history as a poor farm. It kept a wide variety of people – everyone from musicians to loggers, teachers to sea captains, people of nearly every ethnic group and religion. It closed as a poor farm in 1982. Two brothers turned it into a winery, added a brewery, a pub, theater, and spa, among other things.
I found a dressing room empty and commandeered it, waiting all day for a notification of eviction from the lawful possessor. But it never happened. Guitar time was taken up with starting a new song and then working on a Texas Troubadour’s tune, and refreshing again on the Merle Haggard tune I’d worked on a few days ago. I switched to banjo and played it briefly, and then had to switch to finding a different day for recording in early July with Dan Tyminski, Sierra Hull, and Mark Fain. When the dust settled again on that I went out to the bus, instead of hitting catering for lunch, and made a green smoothie. Almond milk, protein powder, raspberries, frozen mango, baby kale. I would say people sometimes consider me “eccentric” (insert favorite term for “weird freak”) but I feel better when I stick closer to eating food like that.
When I came back to the dressing room, Jerry was setting up to do an interview in the next room, so I quieted down. I talked to my manager Josh for a bit about details I need to be preparing for the cd insert and cover, content on the website, and upcoming events.
It was nearly sound check anyway. I popped out onto the heat of the stage. The crew wasn’t quite ready, still setting out the rug and mics and pedalboards. Dan and I stood there and played some tunes on mandolin and guitar and watched them set up. Finished with that, I got out my banjo and warmed up.
The sun was directly the front half of the stage, and heat was radiating from the stage, the mic stands, the pedalboards – everything. It was Dan T’s Inferno. I hoped the trajectory of the sun would bring it behind the trees somewhat before show time.
We didn’t play much, just some of the first song and a little bit of Down the Road, and then I went up to the main building, the spa, to shower.
It was an early show, with not much time after dinner at catering (which was excellent). I made Tazo green iced tea and dressed and went to the stage, tuned the main banjo and guitar and realized I’d left my ’38 D28 on the bus (I use it for the encore songs – it doesn’t have a pickup installed, and won’t).
We played the set – it went well; the band felt tight and on top of things in spite of the heat. Willie sounded great, and we went out for the medley songs again.
I’m winding down now and I’ll think I’ll take an early bedtime. Nighttime reading: I’ll set Chesterton aside for now and read Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.
I hit catering intent upon not overdoing it today and had a scramble with salsa and got out of there.
This venue, Edgefield, had a seventy-year history as a poor farm. It kept a wide variety of people – everyone from musicians to loggers, teachers to sea captains, people of nearly every ethnic group and religion. It closed as a poor farm in 1982. Two brothers turned it into a winery, added a brewery, a pub, theater, and spa, among other things.
I found a dressing room empty and commandeered it, waiting all day for a notification of eviction from the lawful possessor. But it never happened. Guitar time was taken up with starting a new song and then working on a Texas Troubadour’s tune, and refreshing again on the Merle Haggard tune I’d worked on a few days ago. I switched to banjo and played it briefly, and then had to switch to finding a different day for recording in early July with Dan Tyminski, Sierra Hull, and Mark Fain. When the dust settled again on that I went out to the bus, instead of hitting catering for lunch, and made a green smoothie. Almond milk, protein powder, raspberries, frozen mango, baby kale. I would say people sometimes consider me “eccentric” (insert favorite term for “weird freak”) but I feel better when I stick closer to eating food like that.
When I came back to the dressing room, Jerry was setting up to do an interview in the next room, so I quieted down. I talked to my manager Josh for a bit about details I need to be preparing for the cd insert and cover, content on the website, and upcoming events.
It was nearly sound check anyway. I popped out onto the heat of the stage. The crew wasn’t quite ready, still setting out the rug and mics and pedalboards. Dan and I stood there and played some tunes on mandolin and guitar and watched them set up. Finished with that, I got out my banjo and warmed up.
The sun was directly the front half of the stage, and heat was radiating from the stage, the mic stands, the pedalboards – everything. It was Dan T’s Inferno. I hoped the trajectory of the sun would bring it behind the trees somewhat before show time.
We didn’t play much, just some of the first song and a little bit of Down the Road, and then I went up to the main building, the spa, to shower.
It was an early show, with not much time after dinner at catering (which was excellent). I made Tazo green iced tea and dressed and went to the stage, tuned the main banjo and guitar and realized I’d left my ’38 D28 on the bus (I use it for the encore songs – it doesn’t have a pickup installed, and won’t).
We played the set – it went well; the band felt tight and on top of things in spite of the heat. Willie sounded great, and we went out for the medley songs again.
I’m winding down now and I’ll think I’ll take an early bedtime. Nighttime reading: I’ll set Chesterton aside for now and read Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.