Another Bluegrass First
Every so often I tell y’all about playing mandolin in my wife’s bluegrass band. Their mandolin picker got married and moved away, and I filled in to help out. It became a permanent gig. I guess they figure I ain’t gonna run off and get married. (And they are right about that!)
They are early in their music journey, but their sound has started to gel. They just found out they are gonna play a teacher convention this summer and open for David Holt, so they told me I can’t leave. They don’t want to break in a new mandolinist before that one. They don’t have to worry. If Marfar wants me to play the mandolin, you can be sure I’m gonna say yes.
As we have discussed before, playing music with an all female (except for me) band is different. They know all sorts of new colors, like chartreuse or fuchsia, and they e-mail suggestions to color coordinate for their shows. They talk about soaps and shampoos and I think at times they talk about other things, but that’s when they get quiet when I walk in.
When I came home from work last night Marfar and Betty Jo (the Harvey County Banjo Diva) were scurrying around the kitchen, and putting out all kinda knick-knacks.
“Here Doc. Sign this,” Betty Jo said.
“What is it?” I asked. (Dumb man response)
“A birthday card. It’s Eva’s birthday,” Marfar replied. We’re gonna have a birthday party before we play.”
It was another bluegrass first for me. In all the years I have picked music with my guys, I don’t recall anyone ever getting a birthday card, or even recognition of the day. I don’t care if it is stereotypical to say it, but in general women are more thoughtful than men, and it doesn’t bother me to admit it.
I’m here to tell ya, that strawberry yum-yum was killer. Maybe they’ll get me some mandolin strings for my birthday. I’m sure not gonna forget Marfar’s, but she’ll have to remind me of the other ones. I ain’t that good.
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