Peterson House Concert

To Mark and Rhonda Peterson’s for delicious dinner (with fresh Dilly Bread) and fun House Concert, their first.  An electic gathering of their friends, and my family and dulcimer friends, including a JamPlay student, Daryl and his wife gather for the concert.

         I play two sets that are mostly like the night before, they offer and ice cream sundae bar for refreshments during the break.  I work the mercantile and, to my delighted surprise, receive more offers for future house concert venues.  (Here the new download cards from cdbaby receive more attention than they have thus far.)

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          I  Change the set list for the second set and finish with Kaitlin singing “We Are An Answer to Prayer” with me; Then I choose “Three Times” (a song I wrote in high school which appears on Holy Mountain) for my sister, Nancy and Rhonda to sing the “Beloved” song from our youth, with Kaitlin chiming in also.  It is a fitting finale!  Both Rhonda and I forget to get photos from the concert, so I take one of the instruments after they are packed up.

Up and Out

Up and out.  

All is quiet on Tuscany Drive as I finish packing the car with my instruments, gather up my food and drink and taxi down the street for take-off and the drive to Columbus, Ohio along I-70 and I-68 through Maryland, West Virginia, Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio.

         Highlights of the early Sunday Morning drive:

I pass “Negro Mountain” Elevation 2740 feet.  I've never heard of this mountain but know there must be a story there.

        My friend and colleague, Eve Goldberg has written and sings a great tune: “Leaving Nova Scotia Blues” that I am working up on Mountain Dulcimer.  It comes up on my iPod and I play and replay it, singing it out loud as I drive along.  The higher elevations are still awaiting the full arrival of Spring.  I listen off and on throughout the 6.5 hour drive and, at one point, pull into a rest stop just to pull out my dulcimer and play through it as the north wind blows a chill through my hunched back while I sit upon the concert picinic table.

         

Another amazing accompaniment for this trip is an audio book that I purchased last summer but never had the opportunity to hear.  Margaret Cho is a streetwise comedian whose deep reflection and confidence is inspiring in her book “I Choose to Stay and Fight” which she is reading to me.

        

Time Zone problems.  I wanted to communicate with my spouse that I was getting on the road, but because Colorado is 2 hours behind the east coast, I didn't want to call, so I sent a text message.  When I called her at a more "godly" hour she beseeched me:   “Please don’t send me text messages at 4:30 in the morning anymore.”  (I didn't know that she was keeping the phone close by and the sound of the message did exactly what I was trying NOT to do.)  I apologize and promise to learn!!!

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         Connie's dear Aunt Darline is out on her back deck with her little white poodle, and her eldest son and wife join us after a meeting at church as a cardinal brightly sings its song in the back woods.  We have a nice conversation and Bill and Marcia offer their home as a venue for a future house concert.

         After a long drive, my sister suggests a brisk walk through Bexley, north of main street.  It is great to spend the time with her and excellent to stretch my legs.  Both dogwoods and lilacs in bloom at the same time, and gardens are bursting with brilliant tulips, standing tall behind long tresses of green grass. 

         I rehearse at the seminary with Ray Olson and Sarah (Fiddle and Guitar).  She is the first instrumentalist in the Master of Church Music Program at Trinity who is not a keyboard player.  Good picker!  Tomorrow is going to be fun!

Soup and Song House Concert (APRIL 17, 2010)

One thing that is different since I was here last time is that Charlie and Marilyn  now proudly display their registered trademark for Soup and Song House Concerts®!

A deliciously delicate potato-leek soup was what was chosen for this concert.  Charlie and Marilyn pair the soup with the music and use each soup recipe only once!

The product table displays my CDs, DVDs email list and information for JamPlay.com and Concerts In Your Home (www.concertsinyourhome.com), a website which provides information to people  who wish to host live music in their homes.  ("Can you remember all the mistakes we made?  The year we ordered cheesecakes and everyone who came almost had an entire cheesecake to him or herself?" Charlie and Marilyn reminisce!)

        Michael Gilmore, an APO fraternity brother and Glee Club Old Man comes over from Silver Spring for the concert!  So fun to re-connect and catch up.  There is another couple who say, “You accompanied us on our trip across the country last year!”  (They listened to "a piece of it all" and sang along with many of the songs tonight!)

I once again sang West Virginia Mining Disaster, I Miss America.  Charlie joined me with his special harmonies for We Are an Answer to Prayer, and we closed the show with "an ancient Israeli melody" which served as Charlie's mountain dulcimer performing debut:  Sloop John B.  

          This was an excellent first concert of the tour, but now I am packing up to leave eeeeearly tomorrow morning for Columbus, Ohio!

Preparing for the Concert (APRIL 17, 2010)

It is a relaxing day as we prepare for the concert.  Marilyn and I share about our families and compare experiences of mid-life with its many challenges and blessings.   She tells me about Trochenbrod, the ancestral home on her mother’s side in what was Poland, then USSR and is now Ukraine.  Or, rather, if the Nazis had not murdered its’ inhabitants, burned every building and filled in all the wells, that is where it would be.  But she and Charlie were part of a pilgrimage last summer to visit the place that memories will not allow to be forgotten.  That trip was actually to be an active part of the documentary that has been filmed and is awaiting further investment and support to be finished and distributed.  (View the trailer here: http://www.trochenbrodmovie.com/) After the concert, Charlie sings me the song that our friend, Joe Jencks has written for the film, based on Marilyn’s research.....

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            Marilyn and Charlie’s mother had conspired with me a couple of years ago to purchase Charlie a mountain dulcimer for use in leading worship at Oseh Shalom when his arthritis prevented him from playing guitar.  Charlie, however, said, “I don’t know how to play it!”  So over the course of this visit, I gave him a couple of dulcimer lessons.  A quick learner, he only needed two!

            Charlie's son, Jeremy, is setting up equipment to make the archival recording I requested.

Shabbas, Sabbath

The congregation of Oseh Shalom are a reconstructionist synagogue and they pray beneath a circular dome that is encircled with an interesting, non-right-angle font of the semitic alphabet.  It is comforting, and confusing, to be immersed in three versions of Hebrew, the one that dances around the ceiling, the more familiar one in the prayer book, and then the transliterated one that utilizes English characters to describe the pronunciation of these words.

            Here is a community that believes in the power of words to form and transform, which doesn’t act like words are the bumpers in a bowling alley designed to keep our balls headed straight down the lane to guarantee a better score at the end of the game.  Here wonder, mystery and majesty are embraced, chased and toasted as the words unfold first themselves and then us.

            My friend, Charlie, is our musical guide as the cantor who is familiar with tunes that are both ancient and contemporary, all of which are unfamiliar to me.  He leads with his voice and his guitars and the congregation chimes in.  Dan, who I met at dinner before the service, is seated behind me and his strong singing in my ear is a helpful guide as I let myself get lost in the thanks for the week and the gifts of life.

            Some newer practices have been introduced, we are informed and a member is invited to come to the desk and read a reflection on the Sabbath.  Abby, whose Bat Mitzvah will be tomorrow, leads us in the Kiddush blessing of the cup.  Participants who wish to speak the names of those who need healing come forward, when bidden, to speak their names close to the home of the Torah.

            “Good Shabbas” and a friendly and sincere kiss are shared as we leave for fellowship with sweet delicacies in the fellowship area and the focus, as this Sabbath begins, is a reflection on the gifts and trials of the past week.

Gettysburg Visit

Nick and Joanie give me a glorious, scenic route that my GPS refuses for the longest time to believe will be the best one to get me from Sheperdstown, WV to Gettysburg, PA.  State Highway 77 goes through a beautiful the State Park and natural area.  Wow, what a beautiful morning on which to drive!  The sounds and smells of the awakening spring in eastern farm and woodland is so welcoming and refreshing, as it tugs on the heartstrings of my growing-up memories.

            As a musician, the sound of the air through the windows teasing my beard and the ambient smells are the best sonic and olfactory accompaniment for the morning’s travels.

            For the first time this morning, I’ve driven through Sharpsburg and the Antietam battlefield and cemetery, names which conjur more memories and images from my study of history. As I arrive in Gettysburg, I am taken back to a mostly cloudy vacation trip with my parents and sisters when in elementary school.  The place does hold the power of history, of loss, of memory and of moving on.  And, thrown into the mix, the curiosities that are abundant when history becomes a commodity…along route 97 into town there is even an American History Store, a shop where one can, apparently, purchase some memories, or at least memorabilia with gravitas.

            At Gettysburg Theological seminary, I meet and talk with my friend, Gil Waldkoenig.  We originally met in 2000 when he invited me to be the Guest Lecturer for the Town and County Institute and Connie and I were Pastors-in-Residence that Novemeber week.  

Today we eat great hummus or tuna wraps at the Ragged Edge in the YWCA, where I return to swim most of a mile later.  We reminisce about our week-long tenure in 2000 when both of our families were able to me, we were able to pick some tunes together and I hear about the Ecological Theology classes that Gil is exploring and teaching.  He points out what he calls "the best teacher" on a campus that was a witness to the Civil War as it was the ridge that runs through campus was the battle line for both the Union and Confederacy at different times.  This teacher is a tall, stately oak tree.

(The Best Teacher)

After a time making some telephone calls at the picnic bench which is being showered by newly-released white blossoms (“tut, tut, it looks like snow!”) I drive southweast to Maryland and arrive at Marilyn and Charlie’s about 4:30 pm.

            I am relieved that my boxes of product have arrived (as planned).  We load in my instruments and get caught up on our respective news.  Marilyn arrives home and we head out to Pastra Nostra for gnocchi with pesto sauce (my dish) and meeting of other congregants.  Then across the street to Oseh Shalom, trying to beat the rainstorm that is inevitably blowing in.

Gettysburg Visit (APRIL 16, 2010)

Nick and Joanie give me a glorious, scenic route that my GPS refuses for the longest time to believe will be the best one to get me from Sheperdstown, WV to Gettysburg, PA.  State Highway 77 goes through a beautiful the State Park and natural area.  Wow, what a beautiful morning on which to drive!  The sounds and smells of the awakening spring in eastern farm and woodland is so welcoming and refreshing, as it tugs on the heartstrings of my growing-up memories.

            As a musician, the sound of the air through the windows teasing my beard and the ambient smells are the best sonic and olfactory accompaniment for the morning’s travels.

            For the first time this morning, I’ve driven through Sharpsburg and the Antietam battlefield and cemetery, names which conjur more memories and images from my study of history. As I arrive in Gettysburg, I am taken back to a mostly cloudy vacation trip with my parents and sisters when in elementary school.  The place does hold the power of history, of loss, of memory and of moving on.  And, thrown into the mix, the curiosities that are abundant when history becomes a commodity…along route 97 into town there is even an American History Store, a shop where one can, apparently, purchase some memories, or at least memorabilia with gravitas.

            At Gettysburg Theological seminary, I meet and talk with my friend, Gil Waldkoenig.  We originally met in 2000 when he invited me to be the Guest Lecturer for the Town and County Institute and Connie and I were Pastors-in-Residence that Novemeber week.  

Today we eat great hummus or tuna wraps at the Ragged Edge in the YWCA, where I return to swim most of a mile later.  We reminisce about our week-long tenure in 2000 when both of our families were able to me, we were able to pick some tunes together and I hear about the Ecological Theology classes that Gil is exploring and teaching.  He points out what he calls "the best teacher" on a campus that was a witness to the Civil War as it was the ridge that runs through campus was the battle line for both the Union and Confederacy at different times.  This teacher is a tall, stately oak tree.

(The Best Teacher)

After a time making some telephone calls at the picnic bench which is being showered by newly-released white blossoms (“tut, tut, it looks like snow!”) I drive southweast to Maryland and arrive at Marilyn and Charlie’s about 4:30 pm.

            I am relieved that my boxes of product have arrived (as planned).  We load in my instruments and get caught up on our respective news.  Marilyn arrives home and we head out to Pastra Nostra for gnocchi with pesto sauce (my dish) and meeting of other congregants.  Then across the street to Oseh Shalom, trying to beat the rainstorm that is inevitably blowing in.

Meeting Sam Rizzetta and Nick Blanton (finally!) New Salterios (APRIL 15, 2010)

Driving through Maryland, Virginia and West Virginia to Shepherdstown, home of Nick and Joanie Blanton. Nick built my new dulcimer and I’ve shipped it to him for the 5,000 mile check-up.  When I arrive, he and Sam Rizzetta are in the shop, “talking shop” as Joanie and Carrie Rizzetta say.  I step in and meet them both for the first time. 

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            It is always a wondrous thing to meet people in person that one has befriended from a distance. I’ve known of both Sam and Nick for years, first from hearing Esther Kreek tell her stories of her friendship with them.  The initial “introduction” has been broadened by reading years of Sam’s “Technical Dulcimer” column in Dulcimer Player’s News, deepened by mey ever-growing appreciation for the tone of Sam’s instruments and playing one of his licensed-designs built by Ray and Sue Mooers of Dusty Strings for over 13 years. This data has appended by my own direct email and telephone contact with both he and Nick as I’ve purchased hammers and dulcimer. 

          

Nick adjusts my treble bridge to address a minor tuning issue I’ve struggled a bit with, shows off his newly-built Mexican-style salterios for Alejandra in Mexico.

The staggered treble bridges go with the "re-entrant" tuning of the bass bridge. (I get the principle, but I'm going to have to study on what that actually means!)

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            We are called in for a delicious dinner of home-grown salad greens, Alaskan cod chowder and whole grain bread with goat cheese.  

O'Hurley's General Store Jam (30-Dulcimer-Filled Years Spring Tour)

After dinner and enriching conversation (a treasured art!) we pack up and go to O’Hurley’s General Store in Shepherdstown where owner, Jay, hosts a jam.  “It seems we do this every week whether we need to or not!” he comments to me.  

Maddie MacNeil is joyfully there with her mountain dulcimer and voice, Sam has already taken up residence beside her with his purple heart dulcimer; Nick has brought only whistles tonight (“gives me a smaller footprint”).  Two mandolinists are next, then I sit at the West end of the open square.  Don sits in front of me to the left, playing a beautifully in-laid Lariveé guitar, a baritone guitar and a banjo.  Next are the chocolatiers from Martinsburg—he on fiddle and banjo, she on floor-sized harp.  A stand-up bass player (who also plays with a bow, I say admiringly!) is back by the upright grand piano, another flute/piccolo/fiddle player is next, then back around to the host, Jay, who also plays one of Sam’s hammered dulcimers.  Maddie is now beside a cello player (who next week is bid to bring her French horn!)

(Jay O'Hurley, Maddie MacNeil, cellist, Sam Rizzetta and Nick Blanton)

            This “inner circle” is surrounded on two sides by a large crowd of seating on-lookers, the audience, who are bid to be silent when the singing or quiet playing starts, but encouraged to talk by a posted sign “between songs.”

            We go around the circle choosing a variety of old-time, celtic and hymntunes, regularly interspersed by players’ requests for Sam’s original tunes.  After a few hours and when the audience has dwindled, Sam asks me to sing one. 

            The only tune that comes to mind is the one that has been coursing through me for the past week, Jean Ritchie’s “West Virginia Mining Disaster.”  I mention the title, he nods and I sing.  

Gratitude is the response from those in the room.

Starting the Spring 30-Dulcimer-Filled Years Tour (APRIL 15, 2010)

Up at 4:23am to meet the shuttle at the  Harmony transfer center, my first time to ride with GreenRide.  Smooth ride, smooth transitions as the sun rises over the broad expansive eastern prairie.

           

            Smooth flight on United, a helpful flight attendant volunteers to stow my mountain dulcimer in the forward closet.  (That’s the first time that’s happened on United!)  I am able to get some music tablature written in a different aisle-seat than my assigned-one, one which affords an empty seat between me and the window passenger.

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            Toya, at Dollar Rental, is concerned that I’ll be driving a Ford Focus all the way back to Colorado and tells me a cautionary tale from her final compact car ride:  being pinned between an 18-wheel, semi-truck “who couldn’t see me!” and the New Jersey wall.  “They firefighters had to cut me out of the car.  I’m so glad to be here, because I might not have been.  All I got from that was a little bit of a limp and I’m grateful; and blessed!” 

            She has to work so isn’t able to come to the concert on Saturday but several times wished me to have a good one.  I promise to sing a song for her at the concert.