I’m not tired this morning. Maybe I can catch up on my blogging. It’s now Tuesday and I’m only up to blogging about Saturday. I’ve been doing blogworthy things every day since then. Once again perhaps I’ll compress in an attempt to catch up.
Saturday I was off to day 2 of the first annual Irvington Folk Festival. I had several public transit options on how to get there but the fastest and easiest was the 0004 bus to Yonkers then MetroNorth to Irvington. I timed things perfectly and arrived at the bus stop 2 minutes before the bus was scheduled to arrive. Too bad the bus was 7 minutes late. I had a 13-minute cushion to catch the train, so I took that in stride. Then disaster struck, the bus didn’t go to the end of its route, it left me with a walk to the station. I walked very quickly; the timing would be close. When I got to the station I saw people walking down the stairs from the platform as I was walking up. I ran. When I got to the platform the train doors were closed and it started to move. I shouted,”WAIT! A miracle happened. The conductor in the back of the train said, “hold on,” and he stopped the train! He let me on! I have never seen that happen on a train. Have you? I’d have been over a half hour late if I missed it and as I was volunteering that would be bad.
During the day there was music in different venues in Irvington. Most of it was free. The one I regretted missing was a two-hour workshop by Joe Crookston. I was stationed at the main venue, the Irvington Town Hall Theater. There was a series of local acts performing. I should know all their names, but I don’t. It started with Ursula Hansberry. I know that because I took a picture of the card labeling her merch. There were three that I already knew, deer scout, Joshua Garcia, and Pluck & Rail. Deer scout is Dena Miller’s duo. Dena is the daughter of Mark and Beth from Spuyten Duyvil. She sang at the Budgiedome when she was just 14. She’s now all of 22. She was joined by a cellist whose name I should know. I meant to introduce myself to her. Dena is folk family which makes her bandmate at least a folk in-law. You’d have to have a lot harder heart than me to not be moved by deer scout.
Don’t hold me to this, but Joshua Garcia is the greatest folk musician without an album. Every time he performs he gets the same reaction. “Where has this guy been hiding? He’s great!” He said he’s coming out with an album this summer. I can’t wait. He’s a very special talent. It looks like once again you’ll be seeing him at the Budgiedome this summer. When he’s a star I’m picturing people bragging, “I saw Joshua Garcia at this weird tent at 2 AM at Falcon Ridge.”
The evening’s lineup was Dustbowl Revival, Joe Crookston, and Nora Brown. Joe is a long-time favorite. I was talking about him the way I just talked about Joshua, back in the day. I had never seen Nora before. She’s a 14-year-old banjo prodigy. She looks even younger, as do Dena and Joshua. They should go on tour together as Older Than We Look. Her stage manner reminded me of Anna & Elizabeth. She doesn’t just play music she educates the audience about the music and tells the story of how she tracked it down. She’ll say things like “I learned this song from Mary the 85 -year-old granddaughter or Margaret, who wrote the song.” This very young woman does not just play old-time music, she is old-time. It’s like listening to a field recording from the Anthology of American Folk Music. Where does this essence of Appalachian music live? Brooklyn of course. I lived most of my life in Queens and live in the Bronx, but Brooklyn is where my heart is. Nora Brown is where my heart is too. Why didn’t I exchange contact info with her? Why didn’t I get her album to play on Folk Music Notebook? Easy question, it’s because I’m an idiot. I’m sure I can get her contact info online. I’ll ask for a download code and invite her to play the Budgiedome.
I love Joe Crookston. I should just leave it at that. I love his music, I love his performance, and I love him as a person. He was joined by another favorite musician and person, Emily Mure. We both met Emily at the same NERFA. Joe does gentle introspective songs, he does profound ballads, he does silly funny songs, He plays guitar and slide guitar like a master. He fiddles, though he didn’t last night. He tells great stories. He could do an entire show as a storyteller. He’s a painter and visual artist. You need to see him.
I was not in a receptive listening space for Dustbowl Revival. This is not at all a criticism of them. I’m sure they are great. Perhaps I was just tired, but I got out of the zone during their set. I had to work at actively listening. The best I could do was get into my meditative listening state. I closed my eyes, looked at the inside of my eyelids until I could see the music. It’s not synesthesia, it’s a conscious way of interpreting music. As a kid I did it all the time with classical music. To this day I think of Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven, by the way their music looks. Another reason to love deer scout, they have a song, Synesthesia.
After the festival was over I did my merch duties. I was very busy. I had a scare. I thought I lost an envelope with money in it, my original bank. Things were chaotic behind the merch table with people running around and customers trying to be helpful but putting money in an envelope. At some point the envelope with the bank was knocked off the table. Somebody found it and didn’t know whose it was and put it in with the food money. I figured that out Sara. When everything was straightened out I said my goodbyes and Elana drove me to the Scarsdale train station. That’s on the same line as the Botanical Garden, the station a short walk from where I live. It makes things so much easier. I hate getting off the train late and then having to take multiple buses or bus and subway to get home. Not that I ever let that stop me from going to places on the Hudson Line at night.
I’m not going to catch up further in this entry. Maybe I’ll find the time write again later. I need to go to the Social Security Administration to get a new SS card. My wallet was snatched out of my hand a few weeks ago. This runs in my family. My sister Sue just texted me. She’s on vacation in Santiago Chile. Someone snatched her necklace she was wearing and ran. She chased after him and yelled in her little Spanish for people to stop the thief. They did! He was caught but didn’t have the necklace on him. He must have ditched it while running. Like me she did not feel violated. That must run in our family too. She’s going to continue her trip and enjoy the penguins. I told her to be careful as if the penguins rob her they will run in the water and she’ll never catch them. There are penguin gangs than rob jewelry, swallow it, then regurgitate it to give to their children as presents.
Now for breakfast. I will keep it simple, hameggandcheese on an English Muffin.
Wise Madness 