He leaped on his horse and rode madly off in all directions:
Marion's newsletter #4, February 28 to April 28

Hello friends, comment allez-vous? Here is an account of the last two months on a long and convoluted trip through the states. This time I knew better than to have an itinerary in mind when I started out, and just went where the spirit directed (to Texas, mostly).

I spent leap day on the bus south, watching the snow melt and the grass turn green, and I've had wonderful luck with the weather all along. If it weren't for the alligators, I'd sleep out in the woods. After quick stops in Dallas and Lafayette, Louisiana, I went to Pensacola to see Bruce and Susan and had an idyllic couple of days in the woods fiddling all day and singing all night. I also observed their pottery studio - you should all go and buy all of their pottery. From there I worked my way to the Pacific, including busking stops in Houston (where I walked right, I did not quarrel, I did not fight), in El Paso (where I learned that the busking spot I've had such good luck in is in front of a house of ill repute), and in Santa Barbara (where they must spend a fortune on public landscaping, but the result is very pleasant).

I spent a night in LA to see Jill and Joel and pick up Charlie (my travel guitar). Then I went up to an area on the coast south of San Francisco to stay with Nancy and visit Bev and Jerry. One of Nancy's dogs loved to lick toes but I noticed that he had the good sense to wait till I had taken the first shower before going after me. A real highlight of that time was going to the coast to see dozens of baby elephant seals lying on the beach waiting till their time to hit the sea. (Also in the animals-I-don't-see-every-day department: I have had chances to see pelicans, egrets, fire ants, and a deceased Portugese man-of-war).

From there I crossed the south again, with San Antonio being the most interesting of my busking sites - the Riverwalk and the Alamo are really something to see. I visited Maggie and her children in Fort Worth, and went to the "Cowgirl History Museum." After leaving there I had an interesting day trying to busk in Birmingham, where nobody walks anywhere, but people driving by waved me over to give me a tip, or jumped out of their cars and dodged traffic to come over to me.

Next stop was a small town in North Carolina, visiting Dani and her family and eating at her restaurant, the James Pharmacy. You should all go and eat there. Her friends had an equinox party and I was astounded by the number of old-timey musicians in attendance at a private party. It seems like most of the time I'm the only fiddler at a gathering - but at this party there were at least a dozen fiddlers, never mind the pickers. In other North Carolina moments, we were at a gardening store and I was surprised to see a big pile of rocks on sale for $150. I guess we really take things for granted, living on the Canadian shield where we can get rocks for free. I also did a bit of hiking in a state park, where I found thousands of dollars worth of rocks as well as a little six-year old boy whose parents had gotten lost.

From there, naturally, I started west again, making a quick and boring stop in Atlanta. I then had a longer stay in Dallas with lots of visiting and busking. There seems to be a real shortage of fiddlers in Dallas (course they're all in North Carolina, I guess): while busking I got requests from various people to come and play at a restaurant, a church, a school, some creepy guy's place, and a wedding. I felt like Fiddler Jones. I visited Allan, who has also done a fair bit of travelling the continent and meeting Mudcatters so we had lots of stories to trade. Since then, he has announced that I was a bad influence on him: he's quitting the job and buying an RV to spend a year drifting shiftlessly about North America. Next I went to visit Jed Marum, who I know I've mentioned to some of you: he's a folkish singer-songwriter I admire very much, so it was a real treat to trade songs and talk music with him, as well as tagging along to two of his gigs and sitting in with him a bit.   The other thing is that he has a whippet puppy, and as Greyhound stations are full of promotional posters with pictures of greyhound puppies, and whippets and greyhounds are actually the same thing, I find myself missing his puppy whenever I'm loitering in bus stations, which is of course almost all the friggin' time. Anyway, you should all go buy all of Jed's CDs.

Continuing west - made a daytrip to Albuquerque to busk and visit Art and Jenn, then off to Flagstaff. Albuquerque and Flagstaff are both on old Route 66, which I've wanted to travel on since the first dozen times I read Grapes of Wrath. From there I went to see the Grand Canyon as a daytrip. I spent most of my time on a below-the-rim hike (Bright Angel trail). The interesting thing was that I ended up bringing Rocinante - I hadn't wanted to, but the hostel I was in didn't have lockers and I'm very protective of my fiddle. But it turned out to be a real blessing to have it along. I played several times while taking breaks - the acoustics down there aren't half bad - and this led to many kinds words from the other hikers and requests to play more, and so the cycle continued. I met a woman who had studied voice in college but claimed not to sing anymore, and I persuaded her to sing Ave Maria into the canyon. And also, although I didn't put my case out, I made enough playing on the trail for dinner out. I finished the day feeling that I'm very lucky to be a fiddler.

So eastward ho again. Short stops in Casa Grande AZ, Las Cruces NM, and Oklahama City. Next I visited Bob and Eve who live on the Blue Ridge mountain in West Virgina and are younger than the mountains if not older than the trees. Bob took me to Harper's Ferry, which is where the Potomac and Shenandoah meet and is just full of history. Next I went west to spend Easter in Illinois with Paula, Dan, and their little red-haired boy, and trade old stories from when we lived in Ste. Anne de Bellevue. We went to Arcola to stare at the Amish, and I purchased some linen in a little non-electric Amish store for my next embroidery project.

Next I went east again to see Brian and Marcelle in Virginia, and we had a great time trading old stories from when we lived in Egypt. Marcelle showed me how to make stuffed grape leaves; I'll have to try that at home. They came with me to a house concert in DC where Jed Marum was played and where I met several of the local Mudcatters. Also, I went up to Maryland to spend a day with Ted, talking guitar and long depressing historical songs. Next stop was Boston to see Bryan, Jenn, and their stairstep of children and trade old stories from when we lived in Montreal.

From there I headed west (saw that coming, did ya?) and went to Michigan to visit Mick and his family. I tagged along with him on a hospital visit, music store pilgrimage, and soccer practice, and spent lots of good time trading songs and gossip. From there I made a day stop in Montana, where I visited Alice and ate the gourmet caramels she sells. You should all go and buy all her caramels.

Last stop in the US (which also happened to be the first stop way back when) was Everett, Washington, visiting Bob and Judy. Based there, we went to a jam in Seattle where I was reacquainted with Don and Barbara, and also met Mike Campbell, a Mudcatter and fine songwriter who was visiting from Alaska. I also went into Seattle with Reggie Miles to check out the busking scene in the famous Pike Place Market, and to jam along to his clever and bizarre music.

Hmm, this got pretty long, didn't it? I'll try to write sooner next time. So here ends my trip to the US. Four months, but I didn't meet half the people I wanted to, and there were so many more things that I wanted to see and to do and to have done to me. I'll have to do this again next year, I suppose. I must say, though, that I'm rather relieved to see the back of Greyhound US. I kept thinking that my opinion of them couldn't get any lower, but they kept finding new ways to express their contempt for bus riders. You shouldn't all go and buy Greyhound US tickets. So... back up north tonight to spend two months waltzing my Matilda around Canada.

With love, Marion

Fiddler Jones
by Edgar Lee Masters
from Spoon River Anthology


The earth keeps some vibration going
Therein your heart, and that is you.
And if people find you can fiddle,
Why, fiddle you must, for all your life.
What do you see, a harvest of clover?
Or a meadow to walk through to the river?
The wind's in the corn; you rub your hands
For beeves hereafter ready for market;
Or else you hear the rustle of skirts
Like the girls when dancing at Little grove.
To Cooney Potter a pillar of dust
Or whirling leaves meant ruinous drouth;
They looked to me like Red-head Sammy
Stepping it off, to "Toor-a-Loor."
How could I till my forty acres
Not to speak of getting more,
With a medley of horns, bassoons and piccolos
Stirred in my brain by cows and robins
And the creak of a wind-mill -- only these?
And I never started to plow in my life
That some one did not stop in the road
And take to a dance or picnic.
I ended up with forty acres;
I ended up with a broken fiddle--
And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories,
And not a single regret.