Talking about myself is an unnatural act! Really, It's not easy to do. It feels like bragging.


Storytellers?

Early in 1980 I was host and co producer of Maine Public broadcasting for a series titled "In The Kitchen"
Each week I would have one of Maine's storyteller/humorists appear on the set and we would swap lies. The set was built to resemble an old fashioned kitchen circa 1920. I'm told the set itself won an award of some kind.
My first guest was the now deceased Marshall Dodge, of Bert & I fame. Sadly, a couple of years later he was killed by a drunk driver in Hawaii.
We traveled around doing shows from Machias Maine to Boston and one in Jonesboro Tennessee.
Although he was a pleasure to know, he was not easy to work with. He always had a beautiful woman on his arm, and not always the same one!
He would always show up just a couple of minutes before show time and I'd be concerned that I might have to do the whole show. He always showed and he was always scattered, hardly knew where he was. But, when that curtain went up he was right there ready to trot.

One time we were comparing experiences and I told him that I envy his ability to travel all over and do his own thing all the time. He said he envied my stability and being settled down and at home.
He loved my Daughter Becca 72 and told me he was going to wait for her to grow up and marry her. She came to me with tears in her eyes asking if she had to marry him, and that by the time she was old enough to marry he would be too old! she was 8 at the time.

He called me up one night sounding lonesome, and when I asked him where he was he said, "I'm on my boat in the god damndest shithole in the world.A marina somewhere in Florida.
When they told me he was dead I was grief stricken.However, two weeks later I had a dream. I walked into a big room that was empty except for a grand piano right in the middle of the room. On that piano sat Marshall Dodge! Wearing that hat that he said he stole from a Boston Pimp and grinning like a dog eating Bumblebees.
I said, "They told me your were dead", and he replied, "I am, but I don't want you to grieve my passing because I have finally found the peace that eluded me in life." This is so hard for me to write this; it's been30 years and I miss him so much.

I also had 6 other humorists on the program, most of them I hardly knew, but it was one of the high points in my life.
That series was shown all over the country several times on every PBS channel in the USA with one exception. One in Mississippi didn't carry it because they didn't "Get" it.

I met Utah Phillips, I don't know, he said it was 30 years. Anyway I bought his album Mooseturd Pie. I sing the song that I learned from Joe Hickerson and Utah told it as a story.
1995, I think it was, I recorded some of Utah's songs, and of course, I sent him a copy. He told me that he and Joanna were going somewhere in the car and they played the tape. When it came to Ashes on the sea, they had to pull over and weep. We became close friend after that.
When he came to Bath to do a show we got together and spent the day looking around Pemiquid Point lighthouse. That was a delight, but lunch was a howl. When the waitress asked if he was ready to order, he said yes, but I have a problem. I'm from Utah, and we are not allowed to say ...bre..brs..bra... I'll have the Chicken BOSOMS.

Jacqui and I were invited to a Lobster dinner at the home of the family Utah was staying with.Of course we got to swapping lies, and afterwards he asked me to come to California and do a show with him. I couldn't think of one reason not to, so I agreed. How many times do we get to perform with an icon? I miss him every day.
The long and short of it is, Jacqui and I went to California and we did the show, which is on a DVD if anyone wants to buy a copy.

When I lost my voice I figured that was the end of my performing days, but, as luck would have it, I met Jacqui and found that she could sing, and she liked that same sort of stuff that I like (Excpet doo opp), so we now work together. I tell stories and she sings with me backing her on the guitar.

That pretty well covers my life in music up to this point.

It reminds me of the old man, 90, who fell off the roof of the barn. When his sons picked him up and found that he was ok, one asked, "Did your whole life pass in front of your eyes"? he said "Hell no, I'm 90 and I only fell 10 feet."

Thanks folks, I hope this satisfies your curiosity.