My parents used to sing to me at bedtime when I was little. My mother did all the standard kiddie nursery rhymes, but the only songs my father knew were "The Eastbound Train" and "Frankie and Johnny". My mother told me I couldn't carry a tune, so I shut up for a long time. When I was 10, I rode my bike to the house of the neighborhood little old lady who gave piano lessons. Unfortunately, all the other kids had started at five, so the mandatory recitals were really embarrassing. After screwing up the third one in a row, I quit and took up guitar when my father began building them. He began encouraging me to play and sing. I did that through college and then took up pennywhistle, but fell in with a group who didn't want to hear it, so I shut up again, this time for about 25 years. About five years ago I found the right place again and was encouraged to sing, and they haven't been able to shut me up with a gag ever since. It's all about being in the right place with the right people.

Chanteyranger--stick to fiddle. Autoharps have too many strings and take too long to tune.