Been sitting around tonight playing my acoustic guitar. That probably doesn't sound like any big deal, but it's something I rarely do anymore. Thirteen years ago there was some kind of musical convergence (or maybe it was a divergence.) The coffee houses where I often performed were folding, left and right. I folded one that I'd run for 27 years because I couldn't get an audience. The remaining coffee houses ran open mike nights mostly, and I felt like Methusela when I'd drop by. What you doin' Gramps? About that time, I joined the Men's Chorus of a black Baptist Church and was welcomed with a warmth I hadn't experienced in years. Shortly after that I started my gospel quartet and switched to playing electric guitar with the group, which was the traditional instrument used in black gospel quartets. We'd been together about three months when we started to get invitations to perform, and a few bookings. I never looked back.
The quartet started coming apart three or four years ago when our tenor moved to Florida. We kept going as a trio and sounded fine, as the other two members are both terrific singers and we obviously loved and believed in what we were singing. Joe and Frankie are now 84 and 86 and while we still sing with the Men's Chorus, we haven't sung together in a year as the Messengers. As that door closed, another one opened. I wrote and published my book and am almost as busy singing on my own as I was with the group. And I've written more songs in the last ten years than any ten year period in my life.

In the meantime, people keep recording my folk songs. I lost track of how many, long ago. The songs have lasted, even though it's been close to ten years since I've done a concert. Now I have a split concert coming up with my friend Susan Trump (who has recorded four of my songs.) Playing acoustic guitar seems strange and I see I'm going to have to relearn my songs and the picking... like Mississippi John when they rediscovered him. Except that I haven't been rediscovered. It's a weird situation to be in.

Folk singers are prone to hanging on to the past. I'm generally not that way. I give thanks for the good things in my past, but as I wrote in a song, "The good old days are still to come." But, for the good old days of the past, I'll offer up a handful of songs next month. If I can figure them out... :-)