If I were King of The World this Sunday morning, I’d make sure every school child on the planet got to eat home-made ice cream on the front row of an acoustic music festival. I think it’d end all hate and violence.
How could any human being ever harbor any ill will as they listen to Ricky Wasson croon country on “Lefty’s Old Guitar” or Balsam Range rip through “Last Train to Kitty Hawk?” Pass me some of that peach, brother.
It that doesn’t cure folks up, how ’bout The Harris Brothers as they slide through some soul and the electric suitcase thumps through your chest? If you aren’t there yet throw in some double D twin mandolin work on “I Got My Mojo Working.” (Darin Aldridge and Darren Nicholson). By the way, a couple scoops of strawberry were just right.
At night get a cup of coffee and hear Brooke soar along on “White Robe.” You could see her breath with every phrase; she was undeterred by the night chill. That right there is a child of God.
We piled up in the car and bumped along the field until we reached the road. I fell asleep before we hit the black-top. (My horse was in town to take me home.)
I ain’t King of The World, but when He comes back I’ll be ready. I’ve had more ice cream and music in my life than what any human deserves, and I am forever grateful.
Dr. B
Dr. Tom Bibey: Stories of the Bluegrass Music Road 