Settled in like Hens on a Nest

In our sixties we've settled into evenings at home like hens on our nests.  We go to movie matinees. Unlike most of America, we rarely eat out, and prefer late lunches and summer trips into the wine country. Our twisty roads at night seem scarier than they used to.

So it was a big deal for us to have a date night on a Saturday night. And it reminded us of why we think living here is wonderful.

We had tickets to hear a favorite Bluegrass band, Balsam Range, play at the old Earle Theater in downtown Mt. Airy, NC. We were in the tenth row, close enough to see their faces! If we still lived in Colorado we'd have to brave huge crowds to hear them play.  

The only crowding in Mt. Airy that night was at the local restaurants.  Where did all those folks come from? We must have one of the highest restaurant per capita ratios in the country, I swannee. 


After our early supper, we ran over to the hardware giant. In and out in a flash (because everybody was still supping) the Girl Scouts from Troop 02743 had a table and cookies! Back in my day, the troops only had three digit numbers. These cuties stamped their feet in the chilly weather and tempted customers as we left the store. I was gleeful that I had cash in my wallet for a change. Love those Thin Mints. 

Once we got to the theater we needed to use the facilities. But those are always crowded at the Earle .We dashed out and down the block to the heated public restrooms on Main Street. What a great idea. Mt. Airy has a fair amount of tourists so they'd planned for them.  Like the parking. The public lot half a block away is free, and we could be on the road without a traffic jam.

The town still had the snow flake lights hanging on posts, and the holidays didn't seem long gone. 

We crept home safely and substantially below the speed limit. This is a great place for us older-than-we-used-to-be folks to live and enjoy life. We'll have to do it again, real soon.

How much enticement do you need to move out of your routine? 

Second to Nunn

The local bluegrass festival last weekend in Surry County, NC should be considered second to none.  

Last weekend the Nunn Brothers hosted their 17th Annual Bluegrass Festival at their music park. It nestles between a small road and  a small creek. Total attendance Saturday night was probably 300, made up of families and older couples. Compare that to Telluride, Colorado's famous festival which allows 12,000 attendees per day! Not even spectacular scenery makes up for crowds that guarantee a line for every amenity. I choose the serenity of the Nunn Bros. park. 






This was local all the way, although I did see one Florida license plate. The gate keepers were the brothers' sister and her husband. From them we found out the Nunn brothers are two of ten siblings. 

The concessions were provided by a local man. The burgers were grilled as soon as you ordered them, and the sliced tomatoes were fresh from somebody's garden. Bargain ice cream and drinks were sold by the youth from Albion Baptist. I paid them half as much for my two scoops of ice cream as I had the previous week at another music venue, and the kids still made money. 

 I bet you could build a home using the festival's A-V sponsor list. The generous donors included loggers, construction companies, masonry, and heat oil. We did notice the Guns n' Roses Septic crew that last serviced our tank wasn't on the list. And there wasn't a Starbucks logo to be found.  

Brothers Arnold, who plays guitar and Alden, fiddle,  host campers and day-trippers like us. A little creek runs along the mowed meadow, and large trees provide a fair amount of shade. 

The bands play on the porch of a log cabin decked out with stars and stripes and flowers in front of the stage.

There's a dance platform set up to one side, and it was well used throughout the evening. Folks seemed to prefer the rip roaring  fast tunes. 








My favorite dancer was this little gal, who eventually shed her toddler-sized cowboy boots for bare foot dancing.

She loved to twirl and shuffle, stop and sway, most of the time all by herself. But when slim-hipped, trim Daddy got out to flatfoot, she raised her arms to be held. They waltzed awhile, then she'd wiggle to be carried in both of his arms parallel to the ground. She completely relaxed, limp as a damp neckerchief.  Her arms flopped and hair bobbed with each step. She absolutely trusted him to cradle her safely. I choked up. Oh, daddies are so important in their daughters' lives! (Bill, you were the best!) 



After well-played traditional music, including some of Alden's fiddle antics, the first part of the show ended with fireworks. They were really good--a wide variety quickly paced. Whenever a lull came, the crowd clapped thinking they were over, then there'd be more! 






Local bluegrass shows like this one ace out the big commercial shows, in my opinion. 

Thank you Nunn brothers! 

Bluegrass Heaven

We live in Bluegrass heaven.

Any weekend May-September there is a festival to attend someplace in North Carolina and Virginia. In 2013 we launched the season with the Ralph Stanley Festival held on top of Clinch Mountain in southwest Virginia. 

Dr. Stanley, now in his mid-eighties is about at the end of his performing career. Last year he held an honorary position in the Clinch Mountain Boys rather than be the driving force he was formerly. His grandson now keeps the group going.

His home and the site of the festival is near Coeburn, Va. It is really out in the boonies. Wikipedia describes it as in the "ridge-and-valley section of the Appalachian Mountains." As an old-fashioned relief map it would look like the folds of skin on a Shar-Pei.  The one-and-a quarter-lane county route 652 twists and winds up and around to a more or less flat place at the top of the mountain. How those RVs made it up that road I don't know. 











On the way we passed a beautiful garden. I knocked on the door to ask permission to take pictures, but no one was home. I took pictures anyway. 






As festivals go, the crowd was small, and diverse. It was chilly, and everyone was trying to keep warm with jackets, quilts, and even sleeping bags. One middle aged woman wore a camaflouge jacket and a Busch beer baseball hat. On the other hand, some of crowd looked like serious hikers who had stopped on their way over the mountain, wearing well-worn Columbia or Eddie Bauer outerwear. 

The music ran the gamut from very traditional old-time ballads to contemporary songs performed by the song-writers. I liked "Get "Em Up", a rough, bluesy gospel number,  performed by Dave Adkins and Republik Steele. The group disbanded later, but I sure enjoyed hearing them.

The local flavor of mountain speech added a rich cultural layer too. Using grammar that would make a school teacher cringe, the Master of Ceremonies introduced one group. "These old boys is real good friends of mine."  

Between songs a banjo player retold a story about "John seen the bar (bear) coming down the RR crossing." I enjoyed his style so much I forgot the punch line.

The trip back down the mountain was even steeper than the way we came in. We agreed that we'd "rode around these hills," another phrase used by a performer.



We stayed at a the Sleep Inn in nearby Clintwood. At breakfast the next morning several of the guests were pick' and jammin' among the diners. We chatted with one couple who had come from Boulder, Colorado for the festival. Another gentleman had traveled from Belgium.


I wish more Americans would explore the heritage being carried forward by the generations succeeding Doc Watson, Dr. Stanley and the Carter family. We enjoy a national treasure with each concert. 





Add to that the opportunity to step back into the mountain experience, far removed culturally from our overly-homogenized cities, and we have the opportunity to experience another era in our history. 

Next week we'll be taking in day one of the Red, White & Blue Festival at Catawba Meadows Park in Morganton, NC.  I can't wait to sample more local flavor. 

Music and Art in Marion, Virginia

We recently attended a bluegrass concert at the Lincoln Theater in  Marion, Virginia (population less than 6,000).  The music was as good as we expected. 

The performance was being recorded for a PBS show called Song of the Mountains. We were coached to make noise--applause, hoot, and whistle shrilly--during the breaks.  We were part of the show! Certainly we'll watch the broadcast sometime next year to see if we made the cut.

Unexpectedly, the theater itself was the real star. 

It was built in 1929 as a moving picture "palace". It is a rare surviving example of Mayan-inspired art deco theaters, designed by the Novelty Scenic Studios in New York City. The building is highly decorated with "Mayan designs figures of gods, animals, mythological creatures ... found on the walls, columns, pilasters, brims and ceiling."  My photos don't do justice to the original design or the restoration. 

When it was built Americans were just "discovering" the rich Mayan art of Central America and celebrating it in their imitations of glyphs and pyramids. 


Now, it seems very odd that a rural mountain town would have such an elaborate and culturally-distant tribute. It is to the town's credit that after years of disuse and decay they restored the building and applied to have it added to the National Register of Historic Places.


Interjected into the Mayan theme, are six historical paintings: Columbus arriving in the New World, the American Revolution, the Civil War (featuring Robert E. Lee) , Daniel Boone, Smyth County's cattle industry, and the Industrial Age.  They are a beautiful set, although incongruous with the rest of the auditorium. 

rise of industry in Smyth County

The theater stays busy with local productions of plays, musicals, and a  variety of local, and nationally known, musicians. The night we went, the 600 plus seats were filled with folks from all over the East coast. Here's a link to their performance schedule if you want to enjoy it for yourself. 

If you're within driving distance, I urge you to build a trip around a performance there, a visit to the Heartwood Artisan Center in Abington, and one of the local wineries.

I hope you'll make a comment if you've visited  another place that would fit on the itinerary, because I intend to go again.