Archive for September, 2009

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From IBMA

Wednesday, September 30th, 2009
Casey Henry

Casey Henry

Being, as I am, now deep in the middle of the International Bluegrass Music Association convention here in Nashville, means I’m too tired to write anything coherent. So, in lieu of words, a picture of The Dixie Bee-Liners playing Monday (28 Sept) live on WAMU’s Bluegrass Country.

Casey Henry, Buddy Woodward, Jeremy Darrow, Brandi Hart, Rachel Johnson and Robin Davis in WAMU's remote studio in the Renaissiance Hotel in Nashville, TN.

Casey Henry, Buddy Woodward, Jeremy Darrow, Brandi Hart, Rachel Johnson and Robin Davis in WAMU's remote studio in the Renaissiance Hotel in Nashville, TN.

I’m also covering the convention for the Bluegrass Blog. So far I’ve written about the Grascals new sponsor, and about Monday’s late-night showcases. Please check them out, if you feel so inclined!

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Posted in By Casey, shows | 2 Comments »

Three out of Three

Tuesday, September 29th, 2009
Red Henry

Red Henry

Folks, I just had an excellent music weekend, and it was all local! The musical situations were all over the place (from “one end to the other” of the possibilities), but I had a good time. And it all showed how it’s possible to have fun in a really wide variety of situations.

Thursday night, I went out to the local jam. There were a lot of pickers and a lot of listeners, and we played for a couple of hours. Now, some folks don’t like getting into those situations where you might have a lot of guitar players (we had seven), or a lot of fiddle players (we had four), or a bunch of banjo players (there was just one, but some folks think that’s one too many—just kidding). But I had a mandolin with me that doesn’t get drowned out by guitars and banjos, and Chris had set up his sound system to relieve some of the customary local-jam confusion, and everybody had a good time. We all just took turns leading songs or tunes, and the session had good material and balance. Chris and I finished the evening up, singing Monroe’s “Toy Heart”. Thursday night was fun. One out of one!

On Friday evening I played at Borders Bookstore. Fortunately, Chris and Jenny were both able to come play, so we had a real good three-piece band. We picked from 7:00 to 9:00, playing one set of whatever songs came to mind, and then another set, mostly of requests. The crowd was one of the best I’ve played for in months, and they kept listening and paying attention and responding the whole time.

Jenny Obert, Chris Henry, Red Henry performing in May 2009.

Jenny Obert, Chris Henry, Red Henry performing in May 2009.

I admit I’m sometimes reluctant to take a lot of requests because often people ask for songs and then don’t listen to them being played, but at Borders the audience was so responsive, and our music was so much fun, that I knew we’d sound good and the folks would respond even if we were just playing the “Wildwood Flower”. And we did, and they did. We finished up with my tune “Centerville Road”. It was fun. Two out of two!

Saturday looked a bit more difficult. For probably 20 years Murphy and I have performed for our local fire department’s annual yard party. The fire department folks set up a stage outdoors, and we play for their big annual crowd. Each year, we’ve had a band there. Sometimes it was Red and Murphy & Co.  Sometimes it was Red and Murphy and Their Excellent Children. Sometimes it was just Red and Murphy playing a duet show. And last year Murphy was out of town, so I recruited Cousin David and his friend John, and we had a good impromptu band with the three of us.

But this year, I couldn’t round up a group. Murphy was gone. Chris and Jenny each had paying jobs playing music out of town. Cousin David was playing at a fiddle contest an hour away. So I was going to have to play solo, moving and setting up the sound equipment myself as well as providing the music. (That’s work for one person, but it’s okay if the situation’s right.) The trouble was that it started raining Saturday morning, and by the afternoon it was coming down hard! This did not bode well. What now?

I drifted over to the fire hall. The yard party wasn’t canceled because of the rain but just moved indoors, where a large crowd was enjoying chicken dinners and socializing. So I just set up to play in a corner of that big room, without a sound system. (“Setting up” in this case means tuning my guitar and fiddle, putting an extra flatpick in the watch pocket of my jeans, and standing up to play.)  I launched into the good old “Tennessee Stud”, taking a guess at something the folks might recognize, and went from there.

There are disadvantages to performing in a large, echoey room where one or two hundred people are talking loudly. It’s hard to hear. It would have been hard work, except that I had some listeners. They sat close in front of me and requested some numbers: “Tennessee Waltz”, “Westphalia Waltz”, several other tunes too. There was no point in trying to play loud, so I concentrated on playing just to them. The results, in spite of the difficult situation, were quite enjoyable. I played guitar for a while, then fiddle for a while, then more guitar. People were listening. I played two sets and the fire department sent me home with a chicken dinner (it was good, too). So in a situation that could have been a musical disaster—believe me, I’ve seen enough noisy rooms to know– it all went fine.

Three days, three musical events. Three good times. Did I get rich? Well, no. But we don’t play bluegrass for that. Bluegrass pickers play because they like to, and I’m one of ‘em.

Posted in By Red, shows | 2 Comments »

Granny And Her GANGsters: Murphy Method Student Report

Monday, September 28th, 2009
Murphy Henry

Murphy Henry

I am always proud when I get an email like the one below, telling me about Murphy Method students getting out there and playing! With Barbara’s permission, I will share:

I remember when I met Murphy at banjo camp and she asked me what I wanted to do with my banjo and I told her that pretty much just wanted to play for my grandkids. Now, several years later, I do play with my grandkids in our little “Granny and her GANGsters” bluegrass band. We play on the street together and have been playing at some community events.

The kids are loving it. It is especially good for the oldest one who is 13 and has Tourette’s. He is on the bass and I am amazed at what he can do. I just ordered Murphy’s two first bass DVDs for him and I told him when he gets through them I’ll get him the slap bass DVD. We have an 11 year old on the mandolin and he has worked up three breaks, “Boil Them Cabbage Down,” “It Takes a Worried Man,” and “Will the Circle Be Unbroken.” Oh, also “Amazing Grace.” Then our littlest one is a 10 year old granddaughter who plays two breaks on her banjo and clogs up a storm. Folks always throw money in the case when she starts dancing when we busk!

In October we are going to play at the opening of a corn maze in town and it will be our first microphone experience. Wish us luck! I bet there are a lot of other women who are using their banjos in interesting ways, too. I’d like to hear about them. Not that you professionals aren’t interesting! Thanks for listening.

Barbara

And as an added bonus, I will tell you that Robyn, one of my Fiddle Sisters (also known as Logan’s mom), and I went hiking on the Appalachian Trail this past Saturday. Since I am just beginning to build up endurance, we only hiked one hour in and then one hour back out. I started limiting my exertions after experiencing digestive malfunctions on several hikes that were too long (three hours), too hot (high 80s and humid), and too dry (only two bottles of water).

Saturday’s hike was a three-bottle hike and was definitely not too dry since we walked most of the way back IN THE POURING RAIN. I amused Robyn toward the end by singing bluegrass rain songs in full voice: “It’s Raining, Raining, Raining Here This Morning,” “Listening To The Rain,” “Little Cabin Home On The Hill” (with the line just listen to the rain beat on my window pane), and the decidedly non-bluegrass “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” by which time we were at the car. Soaking wet. And yes, we had rain ponchos in our backpacks, but by the time we decided it was really raining hard, we were already wet, so why bother? We were a little chilly, however, but a quick trip to Starbucks fixed that! Soon after, I was back home, showered, pajama’d (can pajama be used as a verb?), and curled up with my new 800-page Diana Gabaldon novel An Echo In The Bone, anxious to find out what’s been happening to Claire and Jamie Fraser. In fact, that’s where I’m heading right now…

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Posted in By Murphy, women in bluegrass | 5 Comments »

Jam Camp A Total Success

Sunday, September 27th, 2009
Casey Henry

Casey Henry

The FiddleStar/Murphy Method Jam Camp wraps up today and I thought I’d share some pictures from the weekend. We had eleven students—six in the beginning/intermediate jam group (led by myself) and five in the intermediate/advanced jam group (led by Megan). Six men, five women. We covered a LOT of material and played a LOT of music during the day, while nights were variously occupied by venturing out to a local jam at Loudhouse Coffee, to the Station Inn to Adam Steffey’s CD release party, and to the Grand Ole Opry to hear Megan play with Pam Tillis.

Speaking for my own group, we improvised a lot and covered playing in some of the less-common keys (D, and E in particular) in addition to the usual G, A, and B. We talked about using the 2-chord in songs (which would be A if you’re playing in the key of G), and we worked with the 6-2-5 chord progression (like in “Salty Dog” and “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down”).

Casey teaching the morning jam class.

Casey teaching the morning jam class.

Casey teaching the afternoon ear-training workshop.

Casey teaching the afternoon ear-training workshop.

The big event on Friday was the band scramble. We randomly divide the campers into bands and they get to work up a song and a joke to perform for everyone else. This year it was three very small bands and Megan and myself, along with Rex (our English mandolin-player friend) acted as judges.

Maria (Megan's mom), Megan, Casey, Rex.

Maria (Megan's mom), Megan, Casey, Rex.

And the three bands were:

The Kitchenettes: Shelle, Steve, Martha. Winners for "Best Original Interpretation of Traditional Material"

The Kitchenettes: Shelle, Steve, Martha. Winners for "Best Original Interpretation of Traditional Material"

The Henry Finch Band: Jeff, Ginny, Bev, Carl. Winners for "Best Use of Non-Traditional Gener Roles" when Jeff sang tenor to Bev.

The Henry Finch Band: Jeff, Ginny, Bev, Carl. Winners for "Best Use of Non-Traditional Gender Roles" when Jeff sang tenor to Bev.

The Ridgetop Ramblers: Steve, Frank, Dennis. Winners for "Largest Number of Turtles Sacrificed to Make Pick-Guards"

The Ridgetop Ramblers: Steve, Frank, Dennis. Winners for "Largest Number of Turtles Sacrificed to Make Pick-Guards"

Everyone went home winners and collected fabulous prizes. Everyone was also in agreement that it was the most stressful event of the whole weekend, but I think (I hope) everyone had fun, because having fun is the whole point!

Camp is already on the books for September 23-26, 2010, so mark your calendars and start making your plans!

(Thanks to Ginny Foard for many of these pictures! Also Maria, and Steve.)

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Posted in By Casey, Camps | 2 Comments »

Kel Kroydon Mailing Features Casey

Saturday, September 26th, 2009

Yesterday’s e-mailing from the American Made Banjo Company (who makes Casey’s signature model Kel Kroydon banjo) featured Casey’s IBMA appearance schedule, including tomorrow’s (Sunday, Sept 27th) show at Norm’s River Roadhouse.

Read it here.

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Posted in By Casey | 1 Comment »

A Local Jam Session that Works

Friday, September 25th, 2009
Red Henry

Red Henry

There’s a jam session which goes on near here every Thursday. It’s been attracting quite a number of pickers (and listeners) lately. On a typical night, the players range from folks who know one song clear up to a few folks who have played bluegrass full-time. How can that work, you may ask? Well, it just takes the right people.

For one thing, all the players seem to know the Rules. Jam session rules, nationwide, include using good musical courtesy, not drowning anyone out, not playing loudly in anybody’s face, taking turns singing the songs, letting everybody participate, and so forth. There isn’t anybody who charges in and tries to dominate the session. (There have been a few like that who came once or twice, but they were not encouraged to come back.)

For another thing, all the people are compatible with each other. There aren’t any personality conflicts going on, or cliques within the pickers. And even though the players range from energetic teenagers up to slightly slower-moving folks in their 70s, we all understand each other well enough musically that we can play together in a friendly way. This makes the jam session work.

I think I’ve listed my five biggest reasons for participating in things like this before. They are:

1. Practice.

2. Practice.

3. Practice.

4. Practice.

5. Practice.

–But I like the people, too. We all have a good time. If you can get good, painless, non-tedious playing time (read: PRACTICE) on your instrument, and have a good time with good people while doing it, then go for it. Go out to the nearest jam session and see what it’s like. If there isn’t one in your area (or there’s one that’s hard to get along with), start your own with folks you know. Practice, Practice, Practice. That’s how to improve your music!

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Posted in By Red, jamming | 1 Comment »

“We Were Bold” or “While Murphy’s Away, The Misfits Play!”

Thursday, September 24th, 2009
Murphy Henry

Murphy Henry

While Casey and I were on our vacation last week, the Misfits got together again at Mark and Ellen’s house. Ellen was kind enough to file this report. Thanks, Ellen! My own editorial comments are in brackets.

What a jam we had last night! It ran the full gamut of human emotion. Well, maybe that’s an oversell. There was lots of laughter. There were occasional outbursts: “I hate that song!” [That, I understand, would have been Logan...] And there were a couple of train wrecks. (There were, however, no visible tears.)

But there were also moments when we were all playing the same song at the same time, and it was glorious. And we clutched onto those sweet victories!

Bob V, on guitar last night, pretty much pulled us together (and, at times, that took a lotta pullin’!) passing breaks to the banjos— Bob Mc, Logan and Mark—then taking a guitar break himself now and again. Logan took a few guitar breaks, too. I was just happy when my guitar and I were playing the right notes in the background.

After running through the usuals—Cripple Creek, Boil Them Cabbage, John Hardy, Old Joe Clark, Blue Ridge Cabin Home, I Saw the Light, Foggy Mountain Breakdown—we ventured farther. Some of our experimenting took us to songs we’d tried a little at previous jams, like When the Roll is Called Up Yonder, Salty Dog, Circle, and Bury Me Beneath the Willow. But we also let loose on tunes like I’ll Go Stepping Too (“The Cat Song,” as Bob V calls it), Your Cheatin’ Heart (sung by Bob V magnificently), and Foggy Mountain Special (led by Logan and that purely tickled the whole group—we made him play it a second time). Concern was expressed that you would never allow us to gather again, since we strayed so far off the Murphy path . . . but we were bold and kept straying.

Several of us were feeling pretty rusty when we started, so the jam was valuable to get us playing and working out some kinks. The un-rusty ones kept us moving. Bob V capped off the evening singing Amazing Grace, because he knows I love that song (even though an unnamed person shared how he absolutely despises it). [Logan, again, I heard.] Thanks, Bob!

The “If I’d had a camera moment”: Bob V and Logan turned to face each other (so imagine their two profiles), both of ‘em full of attitude, expressing their opinions in their unique styles, smiling all the while.

It was a great evening!

[After reading this and hearing even more about the jam in person, when we got together for this week’s picking I felt compelled to ask Bob V if he wanted to lead this jam. He wisely declined....]

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Posted in By Murphy, jamming | 2 Comments »

Daughter-Mother Vacaction

Wednesday, September 23rd, 2009
Casey Henry

Casey Henry

As you know, Murphy and I were vacationing, driving all over six different states last week. Murphy told you some about it, but there is oh-so-much-more to tell. Especially about seeing Chuck Berry play in St. Louis. He plays once a month at Blueberry Hill’s downstairs concert venue, called the Duck Room. Every month it is sold out, and every month they don’t announce the next month’s date until after he’s already played. So you have to watch the website like a hawk. When the tickets for the September concert went on sale I was driving from Nashville to Clarkesville, GA. I had planned to pull over and order them (just think about this next time you’re about to text while driving), but the reception in the mountains was too bad and I was afraid it wouldn’t go through. So I called Murphy and got her to order them on her computer. Success!

We planned to arrive at the venue an hour before the show, right about the time the doors opened. Too late, as it turned out. Unbeknownst to us there are not seats for everyone in the Duck Room, so unless you get there early enough to get one, you’re standing up the whole time. So we stood up, which I hate, but I couldn’t complain as most of the other folks standing were much, much older than I am. And Murphy said if we had gotten a seat, she would have felt compelled to give it up to one of the elderly folks, so even though our feet hurt, we weren’t wracked with guilt.

The opening band (a local group called the Transmitters) played for an hour and they were quite good and very enjoyable. Since everyone was there just to see Chuck Berry, Murphy wondered why they had an opening band at all. I supposed it was so that they could sell more beer!

We speculated that Chuck would play for an hour, which he did, almost to the minute. When he came out—they opened with “Roll Over Beethoven”—it was instantly obvious that he still has charisma to spare, and he still has his guitar chops, and he can still sing. We had worried that the show might be tired renditions of the songs, sounding just like the 40-year-old recordings, but all the material felt lived-in and still vibrant (although I found it a little creepy to hear an 82-year-old man sing “Sweet Little Sixteen”). Chuck’s singing style is a little bit like talking, not in a rap way, but in a straightforward, no-frills delivery kind of way. It struck me as a brilliant adaptation as it’s probably physically easier to pull off and is less dependent on pitch than traditional hold-out-long-notes singing.

And his guitar playing—WOW! He uses very few notes but has impeccable timing and huge tone. It’s almost an impressionistic or minimalist guitar style. The notes he chooses are perfectly placed and couldn’t be more bluesy if they tried. It was a joy to hear. Granted he did occasionally forget what key they were playing in (a couple times he turned around and asked his son Charles, who plays guitar in the band, what key they were in) but after all he is 82 and some exceptions can be made. Also, he wasn’t wearing glasses so I suspect that he couldn’t actually see the neck, making it even more difficult to find his way back to the correct key once he got off.

His daughter also played in his band and she is a monster harmonica player! I’m not a harmonica fan, so it takes someone who is really, really good to make it bearable for me, and she was killer.

The closing song was “Johnny B. Goode,” of course. The club’s staff ushered a bunch of women up on stage to dance and Chuck played his way off the stage, walking into his dressing room while still picking. The door closed behind him and thanks to the wireless pickup we could still hear him! No encore.

I’m so glad we got to see Chuck Berry play. It was worth the long drive (actually, our hotel was so awesome it alone was almost worth the drive: Moonrise Hotel) and our dinner the next night (at RowHouse) was also worth the ten-hour drive from Nashville on it’s own merits. But you’ll hear more about that in the future!

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Posted in By Casey, General | 3 Comments »

The Relocation Solution: Circle #1, Circle #2, and Circle #3

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009
Red Henry

Red Henry

I went to a large and enjoyable music party last Saturday night. It was put on by a very nice and well-connected couple we know, and they sure had a lot of good pickers at the party. But you know, even in the best environments, picking circle situations can come up which need a little adjustment.

Randy Wood's very first mandolin.

Randy Wood #1.


When I arrived, the only picking circle at the party was in a handsome and rather large, tall, and minimally-baffled room (no rugs and not much furniture, but plenty of echoey, hard walls and floor). The result was that it was really loud in there. I was playing a mandolin (Randy Wood #1) that is not drowned out even in extreme acoustic situations, but the banjo player was playing really loudly–and sometimes during my mandolin breaks as well as his own. Between his loud playing and the loudness of the room, I decided to change a variable: in this case, it was my picking location.

At a polite time I excused myself to get something to eat, and after some munching I started a session in a different room. This is a good technique in all sorts of awkward picking situations. If other pickers are crowding you out (physically or musically), or not using proper bluegrass etiquette (though that was not the case here), or any time you feel a need for a change, just start a new circle elsewhere. If the jam venue is short on rooms or all in just one room, you can even start a new picking circle outdoors, if the weather permits. All you need is a few folks who’d like to pick, and at this party they were there in abundance. And the new room I’d found was full of furniture and carpet. The sound in there was excellent.

If you’ve picked a really good new place to play (call it Circle #2), you’ll sometimes find, as we did, that you attract players not just from among the folks who had been just standing around, but also from Circle #1. This may mean that you’ve chosen a better place to pick than Circle #1 had, and that other folks were uncomfortable there too. Circle #2 was good. In time, though, some musical incompatibilities appeared. The session consisted almost all of mandolins and fiddles, about three or four of each, and they started getting (musically speaking) in each other’s way. So I went to have another plate of supper, and then found a place for Circle #3.

Circle #3 was in a good-sized room, but most of the space was taken up with furniture and boxes. There wasn’t much space to play in. This was good. It meant that for one thing the room would sound pretty good, and for another thing, the circle wouldn’t grow out of control– there just wasn’t enough room for that. Chris and his fiddle-playing girlfriend Jenny had arrived, so we started picking. We were soon joined by a bass player and a Legendary Banjo Player.

Circle #3 was the best of all for me, and in fact we had a pretty amazing time. The Legendary Banjo Player was enjoying it, and the notes were coming out of his banjo like bullets. Chris and Jenny played great, and Randy Wood #1 seemed remarkably easy to play in that group. We went on until after midnight, and a good time was had by all of us in Circle #3 (and by everyone in Circle #1 and Circle #2 as well, for that matter).

. . . . .

So that’s the story of the party. I just said all this to make a point: If a picking circle is almost-but-not-quite right for you, try changing things and starting a new one. If that one doesn’t work out, just try, try again. There can be picking circles which suit everybody’s levels and needs, and everyone can have a good time. That’s why we pick.

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Posted in By Red, jamming | 1 Comment »

Mother-Daughter Vacation

Monday, September 21st, 2009
Murphy Henry

Murphy Henry

(Little to no bluegrass content!)

I have just this moment returned home from my very first mother-daughter vacation. It was so much fun that I can only hope there will be many more. And since Virginia Woolf said, “Nothing has really happened unless it has been recorded,” I will now proceed to make our vacation really happen!

The focal point of the five-day trip (Wednesday through Sunday) was to visit the RowHouse restaurant in Topeka, Kansas, which is owned and operated by one of Casey’s Nashville friends, Greg Fox. (You can find more about it at www.rowhouserestaurant.net.) We had also purchased tickets to see Chuck Berry perform in St. Louis on Wednesday night. In addition we had been looking forward to visiting the Laura Ingalls Wilder museum in southern Missouri, and perhaps catching a St. Louis Cardinals game on Sunday before we flew back.

All in all, a lovely vacation. But you know what they say. If you want to make God laugh, just tell Him (or Her) your plans.

There must have been guffaws in Glory when the Dixie Beeliners scheduled a photo shoot for Saturday morning at 9 AM in Abingdon, Virginia. (You will recall that the Beeliners recently hired Casey to play banjo. Copping out was not an option.) This required a drastic change in our agenda (Casey would drive her car, not fly), along with some heroic mental gymnastics as we worked hard to make lemonade out of lemons.

Long story short (as Bob Van Metre would say), everything turned out FINE and lemonade was made. We saw Chuck Berry, we ate a magnificent meal at the Rowhouse and got the Grand Tour from Greg, we stayed in cool places with four fluffy pillows on each bed, and we took a hike on the Appalachian Trail.

And the most mind boggling thing on the whole trip had to do with the hike. Which also has a tiny amount of bluegrass/Murphy Method content. (Logan is mentioned!)

After our wonderful dining experience in Topeka, Casey and I drove all day Friday (over 700 miles) to get back to Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia, which is the closest big city to Abingdon. After the photo shoot, we had the rest of the day to hang out, so Casey decided we should take a hike on the Virginia Creeper Trail, which was recommended by Brandy, the lead singer with the Beeliners. I was all for that, since my friend Robyn (who is Logan’s mother) and I have been hiking regularly these last few months, doing little bits of the Appalachian Trail which are close by.

After a lovely picnic lunch procured at the local Abingdon farmer’s market, Casey and I set out along the Virginia Creeper Trail, which we picked up in Damascus, Virginia, a few miles south of Abingdon. The flat trail was a converted railroad line (“Rails To Trails”) so it was easy walking. After about half a mile, we spied some steep wooden steps going off to our left, across the road and up the side of the mountain. We also saw white blaze marks. “It’s the Appalachian Trail,” Casey said. “Wanna try that?” Of course I did.

Aside: Casey and I had a small discussion about who should go first up the steps, which looked none too steady. Finally I said, “You go first. That way I can catch you if you fall.” She said, “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you!” She went first.

I was so excited about finding the Appalachian Trial that at the top of the steps I said, “I’m going to call Robyn right now so I can gloat about what we are doing.” Of course there was no signal.

So we walk for a short while and then we turn around and come back because basically I’m a novice hiker and can’t go very far….yet! As we walk back down the steps, I say, “I think I’ll text Logan and he can tell Robyn I’m hiking.” But again, no signal.

Then Casey and I are heading back into Damascus on the Virginia Creeper Trail which runs along a busy highway. We’re talking and minding our own business and trying to stay out of the way of bicycles coming up behind us when we hear a loud car horn. Someone is really laying into it. It is abrasive and disgusting. “What the hell is that?” I think. “Some local teenagers saying howdy to other local teenagers, I guess. Just like we used to do!” Still, I turn to look and see a small white car pulling off on the side of the road opposite us. I barely have time to register the license plate “Sojourner” when out pops…..Robyn! Followed by Logan and his sister Hannah.

“Murphy!” says Robyn. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Kansas!”

(I felt I should reply, like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, “No, Robyn, we’re not in Kansas anymore!”)

Casey and I are completely astounded to see Robyn and company along this small road in Damascus, Virginia. Especially since I have twice said I wanted to call her. (Did my saying that conjure her up?) You gotta admit it’s weird.

Hannah and Robyn Claytor, Murphy Henry, Logan Claytor

Hannah and Robyn Claytor, Murphy Henry, Logan Claytor

As it turns out, Robyn has come down for Parents’ Weekend to visit Hannah who is in her first year at the nearby Emory and Henry College. (Actually, the college is ten or fifteen miles away.) But what are the chances of running into Robyn here? A million to one? What if we’d gone a little further up the trail? What if we’d stopped longer at any point? (Bluegrass content: Logan is wearing his Old Crow Medicine Show T-shirt!)

The strangeness is complicated by the fact that I am presently reading Traveling With Pomegranates, a book about a mother-daughter journey, by Sue Monk Kidd and her daughter Ann Kidd Taylor. Robyn introduced me to the writing of Sue Monk Kidd a few years ago by giving me the book Dance of the Dissident Daughter. Now, Robyn has come to visit her daughter and I am vacationing with my daughter. And I, who never travel without something to read, purposefully waited until I got to the airport to select a book for this trip, curious as to what the Universe might provide. A book about a mother-daughter journey. By a mother and daughter. I had no idea the book existed.

The story is almost over. Just one more thing.

Sunday morning, as Casey and I were leaving Abingdon, we stopped at a red light, fixing to turn left to pick up my rental car in the Kroger parking lot. Who should pull up alongside us on my right? It was Robyn. With Logan and Hannah. (I believe Logan had changed shirts, but could not swear to it!) As Robyn told us in the brief moment before the light turned, she had seen Casey’s Women in Bluegrass bumper sticker and said, “That can’t be Murphy.” But it was.

What does it all mean? I have no idea. But the word “synchronicity” keeps coming to mind. I’ll keep you posted.

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Posted in By Murphy, General | 1 Comment »

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