Showing posts with label South Florida Folk Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label South Florida Folk Festival. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 27, 2024

Meet on the Ledge (Richard Thompson)



Whew!  I seem to be totally off my game/schedule/agenda.  What had been an every Tuesday and Friday posting plan has morphed into Whatever.  It's obviously okay (First World Problems, right?) but I always do better with structure... so here's an attempt to get back on track, beginning with updates of the South Florida Folk and Acoustic Music Festival (what a mouthful!) as well as the road trip to Key West to see Dar Williams (both absolutely amazing, as you can well imagine!).


2/2-4/24 - SFFAMF (copied-and-pasted from Facebook):

The South Florida Folk and Acoustic Music Festival 2024. What a weekend (major understatement). Highlights, knowing I'm bound to inadvertently leave someone/something out (sorry in advance):

One-on-one special time with friends pre- as well as post-fest. Amy Carol Webb Friday night. Herding cats for a Friends of Pam photo. Staffing an informational table with Claire for The Caring Community (so many teas, so little time!), right next to Cynthia's Flurban Paradise freeze-dried cookies and fruit, fire cider, energy balls. So Many Hugs! Jennings & Keller. Wearing the necklace Melanie gave me at last year's festival (which meant she was here in spirit *this* year). Honored to be a songwriter competition judge; so many great songs that it was truly challenging to narrow it down to a top three. Multiple meals from The Garden Diva; those pizza empanadas were scrumptious. The reunion continues, until I end up with bar voice. Dragonfly earrings from SusanP. Brian's song circles, complete with my Circle of Friends "campfire".

Returning Sunday a.m., barely able to speak above a croak. More Hugs! Songwriter winners in-the-round (Sarah McCulloch, Jane Fallon, Lynn Biddick); hearing their additional songs validated our choices even more. New discoveries as well as long-time favorites. Friction Farm! Sharing butterfly pea flower tea at our TCC table. Never managed to make it over for a chair massage... 😢

Boundless thanks and love to Bill, Lisa, Laurie, Elyse, Peter, Grace, Bruce, and all the volunteers who made this festival happen. And gratitude that, when it started pouring down rain early-afternoon yesterday, we were under cover... 💖


2/6-7/24 - DAR IN KEY WEST (copied-and-pasted from Facebook):  

When last we left our SheRa, she was packing snacks and heading out the door to pick up Nancy to head to Key West for a concert.  If you're all about the 45-words-or-less version, you can stop here.  Otherwise, keep reading... 🤣

Driving down the Overseas Highway, you soon realize there is a huge differential between miles and minutes; time goes very slowly in the Keys, basically one way in and one way out, a solo lane in each direction, with two lanes appearing every once in a while to allow for a few minutes of passing.  It.  Just.  Is.  You are forced to be peaceful and relaxed, until you become so, due to the stunning views both east and west the further south you go.  Water as far as the eye can see, varied striations of cobalt/turquoise/sky blue, sometimes choppy, sometimes smooth, sporting silver tips when the sun is shining just right.

The Dar Williams show at the Studios of Key West started at 7 p.m. and we arrived at the very cool Ibis Bay Resort (with a coral rock wall *in* our room!) about 5:15, and knew we wanted to eat dinner near the venue beforehand.  Nance and I quickly got ready and, convinced by the front desk that traffic is horrible and parking is limited, we called a cab, which arrived immediately.  One of Nancy's co-workers used to live in Key West and, when Nancy asked for her recommendations for vegan-vegetarian food, she recommended The Cafe.  Yes, The Cafe!  It was a superb menu, and we split the spinach gyoza dumplings and the stuffed butternut squash, both amazingly delish.  I wanted a piece of vegan key lime pie too, but we were cutting it close.  Made it to the show with 5 minutes to spare, ended up on the second row... 💥

Dar continues to amaze me!  Having heard her dozens of times, she *never* tells the same story twice (maybe a kernel of thought interjects but, mostly, nope.  All new, out of her quirky-yet-brilliant brain).  Her voice was perfect, as was the setlist, a handful of songs from her newest CD, many long-time favorites, and even an as-yet-unrecorded song (Hummingbird Highway - beautiful!).  I thank-her-very-sweetly for dedicating Over the Rainbow to me, the Pete Seeger version where, instead of "why oh why can't I?" he substitutes "why can't you and I?", always looking for the inclusivity angle... 💗

Dar toggled between two encores and, after we all begged, she did them both (When I Was a Boy and Iowa), the second of which Nance and I whipped out our phones to access the flashlight app (Dar:  "oh, fireflies!); the tradition got its start at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, and a few others in the room joined us.  I never get tired of singing/yelling out the "And I'd do it again!" lyric, and Dar actually got quiet for those of us who knew it was coming... 🥰

Dar came out into the lobby after the show, so we could all hug, chat, and get this fab photo (thanks to Fred, the sound guy!).  The fourth is Patty Romanoff, Dar's manager/tour companion who I've also known a very long time.

Nancy and I may have gone back to the room to eat sweet-and-spicy popcorn and drink sparkling wine.  We definitely enjoyed the free continental breakfast the next morning, before heading south on the island to a public beach with a pier where some of Eric's ashes may have been spread.  We may have also stopped at a Mexican restaurant halfway home because I was craving refried beans.

No doubt Nance (Road Buddy Extraordinaire) and I shared another adventure "that couldn't be beat", just like old times (Lucy and Ethel?  Thelma and Louise?), arriving home about 5 p.m., 36 hours of non-stop conversation of the hilarious as well as heartfelt variety, shenanigans, and soul-refilling music.  There is a hot bath and an early bedtime in my future... 🕉

P.S.  credit to Dar for my song title... 🤗

SONGMeet on the Ledge by Richard Thompson


POEM:  Don’t Hesitate by Mary Oliver

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.


Blessing for the Brokenhearted by Jan Richardson

"There is no remedy for love but to love more."
—Henry David Thoreau

Let us agree
for now
that we will not say
the breaking
makes us stronger
or that it is better
to have this pain
than to have done
without this love.
Let us promise
we will not
tell ourselves
time will heal
the wound,
when every day
our waking
opens it anew.
Perhaps for now
it can be enough
to simply marvel
at the mystery
of how a heart
so broken
can go on beating,
as if it were made
for precisely this—
as if it knows
the only cure for love
is more of it,
as if it sees
the heart’s sole remedy
for breaking
is to love still,
as if it trusts
that its own
persistent pulse
is the rhythm
of a blessing
we cannot
begin to fathom
but will save us
nonetheless.

QUOTE(S):  “What is the meaning of life? That was all — a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark; here was one." ~ Virginia Woolf

“Be yourself. Try to matter. Be a good friend. Love freely, even if you are likely--almost guaranteed--to be hurt, betrayed. Do what you were created to do. You'll know what this is, because it is what you keep creeping up to, peering at, dreaming of. Do it…” ~ Tennessee Williams 

“Life exists only at this very moment, and in this moment it is infinite and eternal, for the present moment is infinitely small; before we can measure it, it has gone, and yet it exists forever.” ~ Alan Watts

Monday, January 21, 2008

Stand (The Kennedys)

"It's in moments like these that memories are made" ~ my new friend Esther Golton

The following statement was uttered during a monsoon at 5:30 a.m., in which we were attempting to reattach the rainfly to our tent (which was breathing like the door in The Haunting of Hill House), re-stake the corners and reclaim even a few square feet of dry ground - it was right after I ran barefoot across a large field to the porta-potties and right before we decided to wake up my folk daughters (Megan and Becca) in the tent next door and bail to my house (20 minutes away) for a few blessed hours. We never lost our sense of humor - we continued to laugh, even when (or maybe because) we were living on fumes, minimal sleep and music overload...

But I digress... :-)

As I mentioned in my previous post, this past weekend was the South Florida Folk Festival - I am on corestaff and I must admit to more than a bit of selfishness, as I made sure I had jobs that could be accomplished before the festival began so I could enjoy the music. My tasks were to choose two judges for our songwriting competition (Esther was one), serve on the Artist Selection Committee (a full day of listening to 90 entries, narrowing down to 30, including the amazing Danny Schmidt) and compiling information/editing/proofreading the festival program - all missions accomplished (and not in that Iraq War kinda way), such that I could appreciate the fruits of the collective labor...

We were rusty after a two-year hurricane-imposed hiatus, not to mention reinventing the wheel by relocating to a different park, and the familiar processes of the county soon morphed into one flaming hoop after another of permits and inspections and fees - oh my!

All hardship was quickly forgotten in the set-up of our camp (affectionately termed Estrogen Row!) the Friday before (I learned I have a three-tent quota before my body protests), the first notes of music on the Flamingo Stage noon Saturday, the 1-2-3 punch of Danny followed by Nick Annis followed by John William Davis on the Gator Stage Sunday... and Brian's bread passed liberally throughout the 72 hours - the last notes of festival music for me were Esther's dulcimer and stunning voice, playing a few songs she knew I'd love (Dave Carter's Elvis Presley and Christine Kane's Overjoyed) followed by another few I requested (one of her originals and Danny's Happy All the Time... :-)

More memory moments:

~ Annie Wenz's energy and light... and the lovely moon with purple stone necklace she gave me...

~ Friday's hot pink sunset...

~ blue crab burritos, whose motto was "let us roll you a fat one"... :-)

~ Amy Carol Webb's new Welcome Home song...

~ Saturday's gorgeous weather...

~ Laurie and Dana's grins of joy...

~ Sunday's cold snap allowing me to don my favorite hat, which I never get to wear under normal Florida circumstances...

~ buying three of Christine's (from Friction Farm) scarves she crocheted for Rachel Bissex's White Light Fund, and gifting Megan with one (The Kennedys, her favorite!)...

~ meeting Esther, who I initially began an e-mail correspondence with in 2002 when I was booking Michael McNevin and she was with Whole Wheat Radio (an internet radio station in Talkeetna, Alaska she co-founded)... and appreciating the synchronicity that brought her to South Florida six years later so we could have conversations in real-time and I could finally see what a serene, beautiful and wise woman she is in person as well...

~ brainstorming upcoming Labyrinth Cafe match-ups from the talented array of festival performers...

~ beaming with pride seeing Nancy, volunteer coordinator extraordinaire, zip around the park in her yellow Beetle cart, making the puzzle fittings of 150 volunteers appear easy...

~ a foamy cappuccino and buttery croissant breakfast, served by John at his camping picnic table...

~ hanging, laughing and dishing with Melanie all weekend...

~ watching the audience fall in love with Zoe Lewis, and knowing I helped orchestrate her festival appearance...

~ a falafel with hummus and cucumber sauce...

~ hearing The Kennedys dedicate their set to John Stewart (the singer, not the comic) who died early Saturday morning, and realizing why a friend seemed melancholy all weekend...

~ Homestead cinnamon buns ("are you a biter or a peeler?") - enough said!

~ feeling honored when a different friend sobbed on my shoulder, 10 minutes into the songwriter competition, and said, "we did it... we really did it"...

~ late-night song circles, accompanied by sips of Dave's "apple pie", Jamison Irish Whisky and chai liqueur...

~ Mixed blessings: porta-potties with fresh toilet paper... and mirrors (who wants to see what they look like after three days of camping?!?)...

~ the lovely festival program in which, after hours of crossed-eyes, I still found one typo!

And you know... there may be more, but that's enough - we made mistakes, but we did many things right... and I'm already looking forward to next year... :-)

P.S. When Esther played for me Sunday night, she told me that after she discovered my blog mid-December (via Christine Kane's blog), she mentioned it to Jim and he added it to Whole Wheat Radio's RSS feed - I am beyond honored/pleased/surprised (wow)...

SONG: Stand by The Kennedys

BOOK: Hot Jams & Cold Showers : Scenes from the Kerrville Folk Festival by Dyanne Fry Cortez, David Amram (Foreword)

POEM: Solar by Thomas Centolella

On a gray day, when the sun
has been abducted, and it's chill
end-of-the-world weather,
I must be the sun.
I must be the one
to encourage the young
sidetracked physicist
working his father's cash register
to come up with a law of nature
that says brain waves can change
the dismal sky. I must be the one
to remind the ginger plant
not to rest on the reputation
of its pungent roots, but to unveil
those buttery tendrils from the other world.

When the sky is an iron lid
I must be the one to simmer
in the piquant juices of possibility,
though the ingredients are unknown
and the day begins with a yawn.
I must issue forth a warmth
without discrimination, and any guarantee
it will come back to me.

On a dark day I must be willing
to keep my disposition light,
I have to be at the very least
one stray intact ray
of local energy, one small
but critical fraction
of illumination. Even on a day
that doesn't look gray
but still lacks comfort or sense,
I have to be the sun,
I have to shine as if
sorry life itself depended on it.

I have to make all the difference.

QUOTE: "I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live." ~ George Bernard Shaw

Friday, January 18, 2008

Beggars and Mules (Danny Schmidt)

Time is short but life is good - last night I had the honor and joy of presenting Danny Schmidt for a house concert. Words cannot begin to describe the magic and spirit in my living room, as time stood still for a few hours - more sighs and goosebumps collectively per square foot than have been experienced in quite a while, I'd venture to say. Megan, my folk daughter, is visiting from Baltimore - we ended the evening in a steaming jacuzzi under partly-cloudy skies, much needed for so many reasons...

Heading out of here in about 30 minutes for the South Florida Folk Festival, where I'll be all weekend (as a member of the corestaff as well as an active listener) - back Monday with stories, stories to tell...

In the meantime, I'll leave you with the lyrics of a Danny Schmidt tune which, in my cheating mind, stretches to fit the definition of song, book, poem and quote - enjoy (I know I have... :-)


I always did like music, and I always did like wine
I always liked em best when they was mine
I’d heard enough of Nashville to give a happy man the blues
So I took a job for nothing as a beggar and a mule
And I hauled my cart and guitar
And I stood outside the door
Singin: Listen to me, listen . . .Won’t you listen to me, sir?
Well fuck that cause I’ve got too much pride
Fuck that cause I got clear
And fuck them that got no heart at all
Or the balls to trust their ears

And I sat upon the sidewalks and I saddled up my sides
And I chewed my cud and washed it down with pride
Catnip and barleycorn, and made ready for the show
And I lost myself in stories of the hard luck and morose
And the people pitched me pennies
And they pounded on the glass
Then they left to see the painted man
And I left to pack my ass
Well good goddamn another empty town
Goddamn another shell
Goddamn cause when I ride back home
I’m a stranger there as well

And I can’t say they weren’t good to me, can’t say they weren’t kind
It’s more the way they weighted down my mind
And it’s more the lack of dignity and the hustle and the hounds
To take your hat off while you’re playin’ -- just to lay it on the ground
It was never for the money
Or the whistles and applause
And I will not tip my hat
Unless you sing me back a song
God bless the sound of music
God bless the golden rule
That’s why all my friends are beggars
And all my friends are mules