". . . but it won't get me out on a Sunday evening." Exactly so, Mary.

I describe HERE how the Seattle Song Circle first got started in 1977 and give something of a run-down on how the meetings were conducted. But I hedged a bit about why Barbara and I dropped out after a few years.

For one thing, once a week got to be a bit much. We enjoyed it, but there were other things we like to do too, and that held for a lot of the other regulars as well. That, by itself, wouldn't have kept us from coming frequently. But what began to reduce out enthusiasm was that an increasing number of people, mostly new people who were coming into the group, seemed to be there primarily for the social aspects rather than the singing, and wanting to participate, they would arrive at meetings with loads of songbooks under their arms. When their turn came up, the rest of the group would be treated to "Well, this is a song I just found this afternoon, and I don't know the words yet and I'm not sure of the tune, but. . . ." And what would follow would be someone rehearsing in front of the group, complete with uncertain groping for pitches and lots of "I'm sorry. Let me start that verse again."

Well, I'm sorry if it makes me some sort of elitist or folk-Nazi, but I came from of a tradition that says, "Know the song before you try to sing it for other people." Reading the song out of a book and groping around for a partially learned melody was something I do at home in the process of learning the song.

Now, I teach, so I'm used to listening to people in the process of learning words, tunes, guitar pieces, all that. In that context, no problem. But I went to Song Circle to sing and to hear other people sing. I don't want to keep a couple of dozen other people waiting while I do what I should have done at home, nor do I particularly care to sit there while half-a-dozen other people, in turn, do the same thing. When Seattle Song Circle first started, people sang songs they knew. New people, who had never sung before a group before, were encouraged. But these new people rightfully assumed that they should learn a song and practice it up before attempting to present it to the group. It's nice to watch somebody develop a repertoire of songs over a period of time and get good at singing them.

What tipped it over for Barbara and me was that, after numerous sessions of hearing several people fumble around with songs they didn't know, a couple of people suddenly got hung up on Jacques Brel, and insisted on rehearsing Jacques Brel songs in front of the rest of us. Now Jacques Brel songs are fine, but c'mon!!

Rise Up Singing hadn't put in an appearance yet, but apparently it wasn't very long. I remember John Dwyer's general disgust at the direction the Seattle Song Circle seemed to be taking, and like him, sitting around group-singing out of a songbook is not anything that appealed to me. As I mentioned above (and a couple of years ago), at John's memorial song circle meeting, a copy of RUS was disassembled and fed to a shredder as a tribute to him. I notice that on their current web site (HERE), they mention bringing "Rise Up Singing (AKA 'The Blue Book') or other songbooks" to the meetings. (Sigh)

Now, I have a copy of Rise Up Singing. I have a bookcase with about nine feet of shelf-space devoted to songbooks I've accumulated over five+ decades. RUS sits there among the others. I leave them all right there when I go to a songfest.

If people want to get together for a community sing and all sing out of the same book, fine. But as Mary says, "It won't get me out on a Sunday evening." I'd rather get together with other singers (including beginners) and swap songs we already know. And if you want to have a party, then have a party. I like parties.

It was our decision to drop out. The character of the Seattle Song Circle had changed, and it no longer met our interests. But if it meets those of other people, fine.

Barbara and I host a writers' group one Sunday afternoon per month. The idea is for people to read something they've written during the month to the rest of the group for mutual critique, suggestions, and, hopefully, encouragement. Over the past year, a few new people joined the group. Some of them, it turned out, didn't write. To attempt to justify their existence there, they would often read something they had found in a magazine or newspaper, with the excuse that "I though this was really interesting!"   They were obviously there, not because they were interested in writing, but because they seemed to be more interested in a straight social gathering (and maybe the refreshments). The group was a) straying from its original purpose, and getting unwieldy in size. Less time was being spent reading to each other and more time in general conversation. So we found a reason to disband it. After a month or so, we contacted the people we knew who were serious about their writing, and without general announcement, the group has reformed. But it's no longer "open invitation." Too bad we have to do it that way, but that seemed to be the only way we could get back to our original purpose.

Don Firth
(bitch bitch bitch)