Music and Madness in April

 April was an interesting month.  Two of the highlights were that we had a chance to enjoy some really good home brew music and Sheial and some of my friends thought I had gone insane for a while.

My old friend Robert Smith is a truly gifted country/western/swing musician.  I was pleased to learn that one of my friends from church, Braden Miller, used to play with him in ages past.  I asked Robert about Braden and he said something like, "Yeah, nice kid.  Plays like Chet Atkins."  Braden is in his forties now, BTW.  That's high praise from Robert.  So, I decided to arrange a reunion and home jam session.  I also invited a family from church that lives in our neighborhood.  The father asked, "Do you want me to bring my violin?"  I thought to myself, "Fiddle would be a better word for this crew," but just said, "Sure."

Robert showed up with enough equipment to put on a full show and he did just that.  He's got a great solo act that he plays around the retirement home, no booze restaraunt circuit.  (He's pretty hard core Church of Christ.)

Braden came in with a truly ancient Fender Amp that looked like it had been through the wars and a pristine vintage Gibson jazz box worth a small fortune.  It sounded wonderful.  It wasn't long before Robert and Braden were putting out a mix of Bob Wills, George Strait and Willie Nelson songs that would have been at home in any high class honky tonky in Oklahoma or Texas. 

But, the real wild card was the fiddle player, Jeremiah.  He gave us all some bad moments when he said he played mostly classical and hymns.  He didn't tell us that he is one of those rare musicians that can simply hear a tune and play it ... not only play it but play it well.  Within a couple of minutes he was playing the fills and the fiddle leads on those old western swing tunes like he had been doing it all of his life.  He said that he had never heard a lot of them.  Robert wanted to recruit him for his swing band.

One of Jeremiah's daughters plays uke so she picked up my little Epiphone Hummingbird and played along quietly on several numbers.  It was good to have those teenagers in the house.  They were polite and pleasant and most of them appeared to be having a good time.  I noticed a couple of them singing along with the songs silently and tapping their feet.  

I didn't join in.  I am not in the same league with those guys for one thing but for another it wasn't the right night or the right crowd for my brand of blues which is about all I am any good at.  Blues is like Haiku, the forms are very simple but the thoughts can run as deep as you want to take them.  This wasn't the time or place.

A good time was had by all.

A little later in the month, Sheila accused me of either experiencing a bout of insanity or lapsing into my second childhood.

It started like this.  In the afternoons, I like to take a spin around the neighborhood on one of my mobility scooters.  The problem is their top speed is four miles per hour and it takes forever and sometimes a battery change to get anywhere.  I really wanted something that I could take down to WalMart or over to Reasors on a nice day. A couple of miles round trip. When I saw a good deal on an electric scooter with a 20 mph top speed and a 15 mile range I ordered one.

It was like learning to ride a bicycle all over again.  I took a few spills but nothing serious.  But then I noticed that I couldn't enjoy riding it.  It required all of my concentration to keep upright and headed where I intended to go.  Then it hit me.  A lot of old people suffer from vertigo in varying degrees and I am no exception.  I was fighting vertigo and the scooter learning curve.  After several days of experimental riding while I mastered the controls my balance didn't improve.  I could ride the blasted thing but I couldn't enjoy it.

Finally, common sense prevailed and I agreed that if I took a bad fall it could have serious medical ramifications.  So, I gave Josh, the guy who does our lawn care and home maintenance, a good deal on the scooter.  Sheila and my friends who knew about it heaved a great sigh of relief.  I am told Josh's ten year old daughter is tearing all over their neighborhood on it now.  Oh well, it was fun for a few days even if down deep I was scared spitless part of the time.

And those were the highlights for April.