Thanks, folks:

My wife rubbed my back with alcohol last night... the closest thing there is to a wonder drug in my wife's mind. It's much better this morning.. glad I got rid of that stoopid 80 pound sound system.

A couple of things..

I can identify with your wife, Ron. There are group folks and one on one folks. I think of people like Catters Guy Wolf and many others who could sit up singing and playing music until dawn. Delightful people and in some ways, the heart of a folk festival. For them, the festival begins after the formal program ends. I enjoy their company and have occasionally stayed for the late night sings. My wife and I are more one on one folks. In a small group, I am pretty outgoing. But in a larger group, I seem to be more content just to sit and listen. The larger the group, the more content I am to sit quietly. I don't know why. Maybe my Mother was frightened by a turtle while she was carrying me. Ruth becomes even quieter than me, as she isn't a "folkie." She has found the folk community to be very welcoming, and really enjoys the people but the music was never a part of her life so she doesn't have the same appreciation that dyed-in-the-wool folkies have. For me, talking over a cup of coffee, or finding a quiet corner to just sit and play music with one or two others is more my speed. Or lack of speed. If Ruth and I make it to the Getaway this year as we're planning, don't be surprised, or offended if we leave early (11 p.m is early? Sheesh!!) We love you all, but that's not our style. And don't be surprised if we want to linger over a cup of coffee at the kitchen table long after you're ready to get up.

Something else.. how beautifully music can bring comfort.

Last week, I sent off a copy of the Gospel Messengers CD to my brother-in-law Everette in Brooklyn. Everette is one of my all-time favorite people... endlessly appreciative, warm and loving. And generous to everyone he comes in touch with. Everette's wife had several strokes over a period of years and he took care of her all those years when she was wheel chair bound. Despite the seemingly heavy burden, he was always cheerful and thankful for any small kindness. When I first met Everette, I really liked him and when I found out that he loved the 50's and 60's rhythm and blues groups, I made many, many cassettes of that music for him and his wife to listen to. Everette would tell me that when his wife was really feeling low, she'd ask him to play one of those tapes. She couldn't stand alone or walk, but she always loved to dance. Everette would lift her out of her wheelchair and support her while they danced, with her standing on the tops of his shoes, like a little girl. I tell you, when Everette would talk about how much those tapes meant to him and "Bootsy," and I pictured them slowly dancing around the room to Earth Angel or My Prayer with Bootsy standing on his shoe tops, I was so moved that it would be hard to talk. Bootsy died a couple of years ago, and Sunday was her birthday. Everette received the Gospel Messengers CD on Saturday and Sunday evening he went to a church gathering and they played the CD through six or seven times. One woman particularly loved a song When I Get To Glory and every time it came around, she'd just get up and quietly walk back and forth in the room, totally absorbed in the song.

Everette called yesterday to tell us how much the music helped him to get through Bootsie's birthday. That's enough reason just in itself to make me thankful that I struggled for a year trying to learn how to make it.

Music soothes the savage beast, they say. It also soothes the aching heart.

Jerry