I love this thread. It reads like the map of my life in a way. I grew up with singing, learning from my dad and brothers. In the 60's learned about folk music from my brother. He brought the banjo into the house and the rest of the family shuddered. My oldest brother Myke said things like "if your a real singer, you don't need that thing to lean on", and "when you walk in the door with that thing it's the first thing people will see and not just you and your voice". He was protecting a tradition.

I don't have an academic overview like some here. I was amazed while living in Bloomington In. all those years to run into many folklore students. They had a wide scope of interests. Some were writing their disertations on fiddling, some on stories collected about west coast mullusks, some on just old fashioned lies told in one region of the country pertaining to sheep. It was obvious to me that what I was doing didn't figure into anything that they might have called folk. This sort of left me in mid-air having to define myself. I did play an annual folklorist's convention once. They were interested in the resergance of the macaronic songs we had in our repertoire. Hell I thought we were just singing in 2 languages at once. A common thing for a fellow trying to get by in the music biz. Forked-tongue comes allready installed at birth in my family.

What I'm saying I guess is the average street player (me) must do what he must to survive. I love traditional music, food, stories, and am always ready to hear and play and sup at the table of tradition when it meets my standards of edibility. (very broad). When given money to sing and play I do so. When given money to write I do that. I feel unworthy in both cases but still I must eat. Maybe someday a folklorist will have an interest in music and songs made for survival. There is a certain servicability in the vessel of traditional music. It builds strong songs that can carry very heavy loads for long distances. Made for me.

Art for president,

Luke