Today, I am going to a family reunion (or reonion, as some of them refer to it, when they are in a mood). This is my dad's side of the family. He was one of seven surviving children and he and his siblings (and their kids, which is where I come in) get together 2-3 times a year. We all get together the Saturday after Thanksgiving and Memorial Day weekend at least.
This year's Memorial Day get-together was postponed for a week for Bluegrass and BBQ at Silver Dollar City last weekend. My dad has played bluegrass semi-professionally most of my life. He has played for churches and festivals and even at Dogpatch for a few years. Since he retired from teaching, though, he has been playing music with some of the young people in the community. A few years ago, he had worked with three young me and created quite the band. They made a couple albums privately and sold them. They made some spending money, anyway. And, like the Commitments, about the time they got their break, they fell apart. Trust me when I say it is no easier to watch in person than in the movie.
A year or two back, he stated working with a new group of boys. And they had a lot of potential. They were asked to play here and there. The boys, though, are also into sports and girls and being boys. So despite the gigs that have been coming, they were still having problems getting their stuff together.
Then they got the chance to play at Silver Dollar City's Youth in Bluegrass competition. There was a catch, though. My dad couldn't be on stage with them, since he wasn't related to any of them. So he has been trying to get them to work up their 2-3 songs. For months. Then, in April, one of the boys, J.O. went nuts, changing schools and quitting the band. This leaves two boys. After some scrambling, one of the boys from the first band, Anthony, pulled in his little brother and taught him the bass in a MONTH, so they could play at the park.
One of the other boys, J.S., still wouldn't come to practice. And he blew the show. The boy that had been playing a month played better.
So Dad is ready to quit them. The band was one reason that he and Mom had been reluctant to move down here. Dad felt obligated to them. He always wished he had been given that sort of mentoring. In all honesty, Dad could have been a session musician in Nashville, if he had known how to go about it. Or played with a band. He's not front man material, but he is a heck of an instrument player.
So today is our Memorial Day reunion, and I am heading to Cabot with two of my kids (the other one being at Disney World today, marching in a parade). And I will hear some of the best gospel bluegrass played anywhere on the front porch of my cousin's house.
And I will avoid it, as I always do, because as much as I have tried, I have never really developed a liking for bluegrass.
No comments:
Post a Comment