If you can't stand the heat, don't be the guitar player!

Bluegrass is a very strenuous genre of music. Well, at least it is for the guitar player. Don't believe me?

Bass players only play on beat 1 and 3. If they are showing off, they'll walk the bass, playing one, two, three, four. Simple.

Mandolin players only play on beat 2 and 4. Then they take a nice solo with fancy tremolo and staccato, but then commence to only playing half the time. Simple.

Banjo players only move their three fingers (actually, two fingers and a thumb, says Earl Scruggs). No sweating or muscle soreness occurs as a result. Simple.

Fiddle players barely play unless they're taking a solo, or playing over the lead vocal (but if you're Curly Ray Cline, then you are always hard at work). Orange Blossom Special is the only time they might be involved in manual labor. Simple.

But the guitarist!

The poor soul doesn't get to pick and choose the beats he plays. Alas, guitarists play every stankin good beat. Ever ask a bluegrass guitarist to count to ten? It sounds like: "A one e and a two e and a..."

If it was just a matter of beats, there would be no real complaints (and no fun in blogging about it). The beat must have drive. Guitarists must pound out a bluegrass rhythm with every ounce of their soul! If they are lucky, they get to take a brief solo (called a "break" in bluegrass speak to make guitarists feel better), but then, back to that driving rhythm! Bluegrass guitarists everywhere sweat on stage. If there were a bluegrass festival in Antarctica, you can bet your Blue Chip Pick that the guitarist will be the only one with sweat pouring off their face!

That's why not everyone can be the guitar player. It takes a special (and heat-resistant) breed. Guitarists like me have to be tough. We have to be resilient. We also have to put ice water in our contract rider...

The Truth About Sound Systems...

Though most of my career is spent on the backside of the microphone, I have done my fair share of sitting behind the mystical and ominous soundboard. While I don't claim to be the best, I have proven myself quite adept at mixing sound.


But, mixing sound can be hard if the musician won't cooperate. After all, when I say "Please test your vocal mic," I don't mean say "check" once and wait. When I don't hear your voice, I turn you up. When you speak again and blow my eardrums out, I can't help but shake my head.

Then I have to put up with the guy who plays his instrument into his mic, waiting for me to get the level set, and then he won't quit! How can we move on to the next mic if you're still playing? Oh yeah. We can't.

The best sound checks happen when the artist shows the sound guy some respect. So now, we will look at a few phrases the artist and/or sound engineer might think about employing for a more enjoyable sound check experience.

Can't hear the baritone vocalist? Instead of "Does that guy have a microphone? Is it turned on? Am I the only deaf person?" 
Consider: "Gentleman in the blue shirt with the dorky bowtie, I wish I could hear more of that glorious baritone in the house." To which should come the reply "Check..."

Banjo player too close to his mic? Instead of "Hold on now, Bubba, stop everything and back up!"
Consider: "The banjo's rich and driving sound would develop much more nicer and fuller if you took a few hundred steps back."

No bass player in the band? Too bad.

Guitar sound hole feeding back? Instead of "Gnahhhhh! That noisssse!"
Consider: "My bad."

I hope the sound men can find some of these to be quite helpful as they continue their quest to make every band sound good. I hope all the pickers reading can now finally empathize with all the technicians and engineers who make the "Check, check 1,2" audible.

Is this thing on?

There is nothing quite like the tender relationship between a musician and his sound engineer. No matter what the venue is like, sound problems go back to one of two people: The performer, and the guy at the soundboard.

As an acoustic picker, I have run into many different kinds of sound engineers. The inconsistency thereof is precisely why I got an endorsement from L.R. Baggs acoustic preamps and now use their Anthem SL and Venue DI (shameless plug!!!). Depending on the what category the soundman falls under, I know how to adjust the settings on my acoustic preamp so I don't sound like a guy with a bad soundman.


Category I - The Expert In His Own Mind

This is the guy who sits at the board and does not speak until spoken to. You plead with him for help, but his response is usually short. "I know what I'm doing!" or "I don't do it that way!" are some commonly used sentences from him. As soon as the music starts, he falls asleep and is not heard from until you're at the autograph tables after the show.

Category II - The Expert In His Own Genre

When you approach this guy, the first thing you notice is his Metallica t-shirt and the teeth-grinding-loud earbuds in his ears. He has never heard of bluegrass, but is excited to see a real banjo in the flesh. When trying to mic a mandolin, he almost tears up. Cut this guy some slack. He didn't know instruments could be played acoustically.

Category III - The Expert In Nothing

This guy was the first one through the door and has no clue what a sound system does. He offers to help because he was the one closest to the soundboard. If this well-meaning guy is running sound, there ain't nothing you can do but grin and bear it. If there are any problems, apologize to your band members just because. You're doomed.

Category IV - The Expert

This guy actually knows what causes feedback and he knows how to fix it on the fly. The first thing out of his mouth when you meet is "What do you need on stage?" and then you actually get it all! The sound is perfect. All of the mic cords are neat and tidy and the monitors really do work! At the end of the show, he is nowhere to be seen and you wish you could thank him personally and buy him a Cadillac.


Anyone who has been in bluegrass for any length of time has worked with all these guys. It can be downright depressing at times. But believe me, it is NOT all one way. Many of the problems on stage can be traced back to the artist himself. I will discuss this in the next post. Stay tuned!!

Lester the Lonesome Goldfish, and other pet names

Dogs, cats, fish, gerbils, raccoons; all these are types of pets commonly found in a bluegrass-loving household. Bluegrass musicians often write songs about their dogs and such, but many find it hard to rhyme "Fido" and harder to refer to a gerbil.  Beside that, when you name a pet, you want to name it something that will make a statement and mean something. Naming your pet after your favorite composer may be a great conversation-starter, but I dare you to find a rhyme for Tchaikovsky (assuming he was your favorite)!

This being said, allow me to suggest some suggestions.

Try to name your pet like you would your own child (see previous post) except use as few names as possible. Having a long name may make training difficult:
"C'mere, William Jimmy Tater Monroe! Sit, William Jimmy Tater Monroe! You're not listening, are you, William Jimmy Tater Monroe?"

Try to stick with only one name. If you feel one name doesn't capture the true character of your pet, use a title. This can be something simple as "Mr, or Ms", the name of your state, or you can find an adjective from any bluegrass band's name. "Lonesome, blue, wild, gentle, etc." could all work when paired with a simple name.

Here are a few examples from the above template:

Mr. Jimmy
Ms. Maybelle
Wild Lester (raccoons only)
Gentle Ben (if your pet is a bear)
Arizona Rhonda
Lonesome William
Tennessee Tater

Hope this gets your pet started right! If you use any of these names, please let me know!

Bluegrass Royalty

So I hear tell that the Royal family over in the old Country had a recent addition to the household.  That's sweet.  They named it, as they usually do, after notable past and historical members of royalty so as to carry on those illustrious names and legacies for generations to come.

Why don't bluegrassers do that? Or do they?

I guess it's about time to start. I have here a by-no-means-exhaustive list of some "bluegrass royalty" names and what they mean for your child.

Son--

William/Bill: The highest honor to give your son is to name him after the Father of Bluegrass himself!  He will be a tough, but very innovative boss. People will look up to him. (Warning: If you start calling him Willy, it may become of some concern should he meet a young girl named Pretty Polly, but that's another story)

James/Jimmy: If you had a two-dollar-bill for every bluegrass legend with the name James or Jimmy, you would have enough money to retire from bluegrass (until next month's bill comes in). This name most notably throws back to the King of Bluegrass himself. Dress your son in a red and white checkered cowboy hat.

Ralph: Your son will be looked up to as a true patriarchal figure.  A strong and true leader.  When he cries, it will have a Stanley Mountain Sound to it.
Carter (If twins): You could sell tickets to hear this son cry.

Tater: Your son will be a bass player and a good ol southern boy.

Daughter--

Maybelle: Your daughter will be an inspirational role model and will assume leadership positions with ease.  Named after Mother Maybelle Carter, she will be highly revered in her musical endeavors.

Rhonda: It doesn't get any more royal! Naming your daughter after the queen of bluegrass is significant, because she will be successful no matter which genre of music she will play!  Teach her to make Martha White biscuits at a young age.

Gloria Belle: She will be a trailblazer. A legend. A pioneer to go where no woman has gone before. Named after the famed bass player in the Sunny Mountain Boys.

Tater: Your daughter will be a bass player and a good ol southern gal.


That's about all I got for now.  The above list will get your child-rearing off to a great start and help preserve the royal bluegrass heritage.

Stay tuned for "How to name your pets in the bluegrass way without being sappy".

Wire, Wood, and Blood

The Father of Bluegrass was once asked how to be really good when playing the mandolin.  Bill Monroe's legendary response was "Son, you got to whup it like a mule."  Bluegrassers all over planet earth (and even some in outer space) know how to get that powerful bluegrass sound by aggressively picking their instrument with oomph.

Inevitably, the inevitable happens (redundant, I know).  One of those tight, metallic strings gives in to the strain of harsh strumming.  The sharp and pointy end whips through the air either narrowly missing your face, or leaving a tender remembrance of its passing.  If it does miss your face, it might spring closely toward your hand and stick in your fingers.  Yeah, the life of a bluegrass musician can be dangerous for sure!

Being quite an aggressive picker myself, the aforementioned scenario is a familiar one to me. My guitar has seen its fair share of blood splatters all over its immaculate wooden face.  If I had a nickel for every time I had to change a string between songs, I could afford a second guitar to stand on stage with me (so I wouldn't have to change between songs anymore)!  But I'm kind of glad I don't.  It would take away from the adventure of dodging loose (and bloodthirsty) wires on stage.

So take note, young bluegrass pickers (and you old ones, too)!  The illustrious profession of bluegrass musician is not for the faint of heart! Be prepared to change your strings during the chorus of a song.


Keep your cleaning rag, wire cutters and band-aids always at hand!

The world's most Okay-est expert!

If there is one thing I've learned as a professional musician and entertainer, it would be this one thought:  For everyone at your level of expertise, there are 150 people better than you.

This can be quite the depressing statistic. It kind of is, actually (made up, too). I would be amiss if I didn't tell you that I've experienced this truth firsthand.

One of my band's sit-in bass players came to visit with us the other day.  He is a very nice gentleman and we had a wonderful afternoon reminiscing and picking some bluegrass together in our front room.  As he was leaving he turned to my sister and said "You deserve the best!" He turned to my older brother and said "You have the best!" He turned to my younger brother and said "You ARE the best!" Finally, he turned to me and said "Great sideburns." As another example, I was fortunate enough to play some music in Nashville, Tennessee this past summer and I had the honor of meeting some of my top favorite pickers in the industry while I was there.  While they sat in the audience, I played with every ounce of gusto I had.  Still, something in the back of my mind saw them sitting and staring at me. Judging every stinking note I played.  They heard every mistake.  I'm sure they laughed at my playing when they got home.

None of this bothers me that much, however.  I find that if there are people better than me, I find something that I'm better at than them.  Sounds kind of spiteful, I know.  Here's how it works:

Friend: I won 1st place in international guitar contests 82 times in a row.
Me: I could probably do that too, but I chose to get my second degree black belt instead.
Friend: My voice range spans 5 octaves and I'm a champion yodeler. 
Me: I had an Associate Degree when I graduated high school.
Friend: I had all of my wisdom teeth pulled without anesthesia and I was eating a caramel apple by that afternoon.
Me: I took care of my wisdom teeth and still have them.

Let me just say that the above conversation is completely fictional; none of my friends would listen to insufferable bragging like that.  I guess the message (yes, there is one, so stop laughing) would be to remember that if you are the best you can be, it doesn't matter that somebody's better than you.

So here's the remedy: Think about it as excelling in mediocrity!  You're much better at being "sort of good" than your friend!  You are the greatest mediocre person you know!  Isn't that great? Now you have something to brag about!

What does that even mean?

Writing songs is a tricky thing.  Some people make it look so easy, but there is a world of things that have to work together just right in order to have a smashing hit.  One big problem is lyrics.  Sure, it seems like a simple task to write something that has meter and rhymes, but unfortunately, it also has to make sense.  Songwriters everywhere know what I'm talking about.

Among all the songs I've penned, the ones that did the best (sold less than a million copies and went plywood!) was the ones that made the most sense to my listeners.  A song tells a story. 9 times out of 10, it is based on true life.  99 times out of 10, the lyrics are meant to be listened to.  999 times out of 10, if the lyrics make no sense, the song becomes the subject of much laughter in it's long and glorious life.

You want examples, I sense. Examples I shall give you:

Ever listen to the Bee Gees?  Listen to the words of "I Started a Joke".  Very pretty melody, you'll find.... but let's just say we're still waiting for the punchline!  The words are a smidgen on the nonsensical side.  Bee Gees fans will argue that you're supposed to interpret the lyrics however you like.  I don't know about you, but that seems like too much work to me.

When I write lyrics, I always check, re-check, and double check what I say.  How many times have I written lyrics that nobody knows what they're supposed to mean?  Lots.  Lots and lots. Check this out.

You find a smile of the greatest degree
in the strangest of places, but at least its for free.

Ok. This is Exhibit A of songwriting on sleepless nights.  But when I wrote it I was indeed smiling.  Don't ask me what it means, I don't quite remember what I was thinking. It probably doesn't matter either.

Now read the lyrics to "Gentle on My Mind".  Hey, THAT'S good writing there.  All lyricists wish they could write as good. Myself included.
I'll leave you now with this small snippet of a song I'm working on as inspiration:

I'm feeling so good
from eating, I'll yell
but my girth is expanding
like the Liberty Bell

If you can figure out what this means, I sure hope you'll explain it to me, too.

Pleasant Dreams....maybe.

Some say I'm a dreamer.  No really. Some actually do say that.  I have to agree with them, too.  I have ALWAYS had an overactive mind and aspirations as lofty as the forehead on a giraffe with glandular issues.  But, we all find out sooner or later that our dreams and reality are sometimes two very different things.

Basically, I don't ask for much.  My bucket list has three things on it:

1. Play the Opry
2. Play Carnegie Hall
3. Grow a beard

So far, nothing has been crossed off.  Very depressing, I know.  Do you have any idea how long I've waited for a beard?

Besides that, we as human beings tend to make lists for ourselves. Lists to remind us to do things, to not do things, and to make list of lists telling us to list things to do or not.  It gets exhausting!  I could try and offer sound advice like "Stop with the lists already" but then you would have to put that down on another list of reasons why you should get rid of your lists.  MAKE IT STOP!

Behold, I have come up with a revolutionary way to achieve your dreams, no matter how wild, utilizing minimal strategic lists and painful memorization!  Here are three basic plans:

Plan A: The Under-Over-Achiever

    Here's how this works:  Lump all your dreams into one generic achievement. This way, the interpretation of your goal can be ambiguous and you'll soon justify crossing everything off your list!  For example, my above bucket list could just consist of one item: "Grow up and get a job".  This is sure to be crossed off soon, and depending on how you look at it, I could cross it off right now!


Plan B: The Over-Under-Achiever

     This may seem a little bit like the previous plan, but it is totally worth giving a try anyway.  Break up all of your goals into teeny tiny little baby-step-goals.  You're bound to cross off the majority of your list as you write it!  Observe Plan B going into effect with my previous list: GOAL#1:  1.) Buy a guitar, 2.) Learn to play chords, 3.) Learn a song, 4.) Start a band, 5.) Work up a repertoire,  6.) Play gigs, 7.) Play the Opry. 8-14.) Repeat previous steps and play Carnegie Hall, 15.) Grow a beard
Did you see that?  I can cross off most everything but the last few items! Cyber high-five! (Now go explain why you just gave your computer screen a high five)


Plan C: The Finisher

     Open your mouth and scream "I'm finished!" and tear your list of goals into shreds.  Done. Forget goals. Can't you be satisfied with what you have?

This hopefully inspired you to do things you can be proud of and to keep your dreams happy ones.
I hope I was of some help to you.  Keep on keeping on!

Foot size: 11; Mouth: ditto;

Social media! Ah, how I love it!  A truly marvelous place where people come together and bicker about everything under the sun.  What a perfectly fascinating way to spend the time!

Don't get me wrong, there are other uses to social media besides arguing whose cat is more "adorbs" than so-and-so's, or whether Klingon is more similar to Vulcan or to Ewok, or if a fourth Jurassic Park movie is going to have the same plot line as the rest (you know, dinosaurs come to life, eat a bunch of people, people escape).  If you asked me to name one other use for social media, however, I may blank for a moment....

I am sorry to admit, but I have posted remarks on social media that I later regretted. I hastily put my (what I call) "first glance opinion" under the picture of a stupid cat doing something stupid, and it accidentally went public and then there is an outcry directed at me.  Oops.

Now comes the apology.  Something a little bit like the dreaded foot-in-mouth disease strikes me cold.  Well actually, its exactly like it.  One giant, size 11 foot coming right up. Open wide!!

I hope you won't misunderstand me: I'm not telling you to stop standing up for what you believe in.  Take a stand! Stand firm!  I'm only suggesting that you might want to think before you post.  Consider saying "I don't agree because: x,y,z" Instead of "What wagon load of dumbbells did YOU fall off of, scatter brain?!?"
See the difference?

The moral of this blog post is whenever you find yourself utilizing the social medias for what they are used best for, always remember to think before you act like a blithering, inconsiderate, stupid moron!

I'll probably regret publishing this blog post later...good thing I have a mouth to match my foot.

You might be a homeschooler if...

Those of us fortunate enough to have been homeschooled sure get a bad rap. Every day and from every walk of life we get these same, stale, old, lame one-liners:

You might be a homeschooler if:

Your social life is viewed to be one rung lower than that of a benedictine monk.
Directions to your prom was "Down the hall, through the kitchen on your left".
Strangers always asked you the question  "You do know the earth is round, right?"
To which you always answered "Yeah, I mathematically proved that when I was three years old!"
"Recess" was that time in the day when you stopped reading a book to finish adding on to your house.
Pajamas are an acceptable school uniform.
Your "Homies" literally live at your home and they're literally your siblings. That's your etymology of the word.
You got a microscope for Christmas...and you enjoyed using it.
Mom talking to herself is a Parent/Teacher conference. 
You have meal worms growing in a jar in your kitchen...on purpose.
For your teacher, everyday is bring-your-kid-to-work-day!
You can't watch a movie without pointing out every historical inaccuracy and continuity error.
School started every morning with breakfast and cleaning the dirty laundry off your desk.
"Sick day" meant doing schoolwork when you're sick.
You know these one-liners are for the most part true.


Blah dee blah!  So lame.  What's worse is that these show up on the Internet, Social Media, Greeting Cards, and people even tell you to your face!! I've decided that its time to redefine the homeschooled child with my own one-liners directed at public-school-kids!  Observe:

You might be a public school kid if:

You're not a homeschooler.

Alright. That's all I got so far.  Come to think of it, that may be all I need.  I don't want to make public school kids cry or anything.  Maybe y'all can help me think up a few more!

Bluegrass Musician vs. Money

What a fight!  What a battle!  What courage! What nerve!  What an ending!  Oh wait!  He's up, folks!  This could be the match of the year!  He's up again with a vengeance!  Mr. Musician, the one in the blue sequin trunks, takes a serious blow as Mr. Money in the green trunks socks him in the ol' bank account.  Mr. Musician is down for the count! And a one-a and a two-a and a three-a...he's up again!  I can't believe the determination and diligence on display by Mr. Musician! He's actually fighting back after knowing that the struggle to manage Money is a never-ending saga and even a losing battle most times for people named Musician!  Here we go again, folks: Mr. Musician holding Mr. Money in a headlock--looks like a very good strategy to me, but look!  His grip is loosening!

This epic feud has been going on since the early days of the Bluegrass Musician "fighters". Always up, down, up, down, and then up again until one or the other gives in.  Ask anyone associated with a Bluegrass Musician.  I've asked, too!  My conversation went like this:

ME (sarcastically): C'mon, How many bluegrassers do you know with day jobs, huh?

GOOD LOOKING AND PERFECT FRIEND OF MINE (dead serious): Um, a lot.

ME: You're not supposed to agree with me.

Okay, so I realize this snippet of conversation doesn't prove much.  It is kind of embarrassing that  I even had a conversation like this.  I don't even know why I put it in here.  But my point is, Bluegrass music in general isn't exactly a gold mine.  The list of people who had to drop out of the business for financial issues could stretch all the way from Fort Knox, to the Denver, Colorado Mint and back in time for payday.

You may (or may not) be asking right now "Mark, WHY ON PLANET EARTH would people still play bluegrass for a living when there is no sniveling way they could ever make enough money at it?!?!?"  If that is what you were asking, my answer to you would be "You can take the soul out of bluegrass, but you can't take bluegrass out of the soul."  If that is what I answered, good luck on what it means.  Bottom line is, the art of bluegrass music is unarguably an art form many people are willing to make a sacrifice for. Even if it hurts.  That's what makes it an art worth patronizing.

Let's be honest.  I wouldn't trade my job as a bluegrass musician for all the money on earth.  But if you do have access to all the money on earth, maybe we can talk....

Well this is awkward...

You may think you're a pretty cool person.  You may not be able to remember a time when people didn't think you were cool.  Cool may even be your middle name.  Get over it.

At least once in every mortal's lifetime, an awkward moment happens.  How many of us have had the unfortunate trilemma of deciding to high-five, shake hands, or bear hug a friend?  When this occurs, there is usually a brief, but ever awkward, period of time where both of you are flailing your arms up, down, out, then up again, all the while keeping a jolly smile on your face.  Admit it. You've done this.

Have you ever had a perfectly good and intelligent conversation just up and die?  Doesn't that long, and certainly awkward, pause of silence where the conversants just say "Yup" or "Uh huh" or "Good stuff" just make you want to crawl in a hole under a rock in the barren wastelands of Arizona and not come out until you turn 172 years old? (Well maybe not; that would just be awkward)  Then somebody, usually you, has to mention the awkward silence to break the ice again. To which everybody says: "Yeah, lol." Way to be sociable, Doctor Awkward!

When you were a child, did you ever hold somebody's hand thinking it was one of your parents and it turns out to be a total rank stranger?  Yeah, aaawkwarrrrrd!

How about calling someone by the wrong name, to their face, more than once in a sitting?  This is one that not all are guilty of, but once it happens nobody forgets.  And why should they? It was awkward.  In an awkward kind of way.

I won't even mention the "Reply All" vs. "Reply" button on your email.  Let's not bring up THAT painful little incident.

But awkward is funny!  This is why we laugh at awkwardness (once we recover from it).  This is why you probably cringed reading some--if not all--of these scenarios.  Whole TV shows are centered around awkward people doing awkward things in an awkward way.  Books are written yearly to instruct awkward people how to not be like themselves by "being themselves" (figure that one out).  You can find awkwardness all around if you look for it! For example, if I were to end this blog post suddenly.

I misremember too!

Certain newscasters know that to be trusted, one must always tell the truth.  I will not use this space to ridicule, mock, insult, embarrass, or name-call anyone...except me.

We have all had that moment where we desire to bend the truth a wee little bitty bit to make ourselves sound not as idiotic as we think we are.  Really its only for our own egos that we do it.  For example:

"Yeah Big Mon said to me he says: 'Son, you might be the finest picker in bluegrass!' He said that right to me!"

While immediately people will be impressed because it is known far and wide that "Big Mon" was Bill Monroe's nick name, YOU know that you were only talking about your co-worker's janitor who went by Montana Joe and knew nothing about bluegrass nor have the prefix "Big" in front of his nick name.  They can't blame you.  You "misremembered" that the Father of Bluegrass also went by that name.  Lucky coincidence.
Or how about this one:

"I must've been on that swamp for three hours before I finally got a bite.  You talk about a fight, son!  I said to Bubba 'I done landed me a gator!' and Bubba said 'That ain't no gator that's a shark!' I commenced to reeling in the most gigantic silver carp you ever saw!  We must've eaten off of it for ten years!"

This is one commonly told both by you and Bubba because both of you "misremembered" which one of you reeled in that 3-pound-catfish that Bubba said was a carp.  You also only ate off of it for 2 days (Eat it the first day, throw the scraps out for the raccoons the next day).

It's so easy to do.  We all tend to do it the slightest.  However, it is still considered lying. Lying is lying.  I never have approved of lying and I certainly would call someone out if they are lying.  I would tell them to knock it off and don't let it happen again! In fact, that's what was telling my old pal Barack when I was visiting him and Joe last week if I misremember correctly...

I was Mr. Universe (and other outright fibs)

While never in my entire life have I been compared to Arnold Schwarzenegger or Sylvester Stallone, I have been compared to another movie star: Gumby.  Whether or not that was a compliment I don't think I'll ever know.  But I guess they were right.  I am not exactly Hercules.

I've done my fair share (or perhaps slightly less) of hard work in the gym. I got in pretty good shape, too!  I was pressing 130 regularly.  Don't laugh.  I weighed less than that then. I was at one time able to do 50 sit-ups in one sitting before falling over in a dead faint.

But now I am a full-time student and full-time musician.  It seems I have no more time for building up my arms or getting a six pack.  The most exercise I get anymore is climbing up and down three flights of stairs three times a day, four days a week.  It's riveting.

So my excuse is pretty good I think.  But I have met several musicians and students who are really fit and have an equally busy schedule.  They ruin my excuses.  It's not fair.   My only hope is that when I graduate, maybe I'll have more free time to go back to a gym.

What am I saying.... free time? Enough fairy tales.  Let's all just live happily ever after, OK?

Home On The Range

If you think this post is going to be about that cloudless land where deer and antelope play, you're about to hear your first discouraging word.  I'm talking about a vocal range.  The blessing and curse of every vocalist.  If you're a tenor, you're happy because everybody thinks you're amazing for those notes you hit...And so you are!  If you're a bass, you're automatically a cool dude and everybody wants to hear you sing.

However, I am a baritone.  Yes.  That sorry, middle-of-the-road range that says I'm not man enough to sing tenor, and not cool enough to sing bass, but smart enough to dabble in both.  We baritones get that leftover harmony too low for the tenors and too high for the basses, but not important enough for the lead singers.  At least we're needed!  A group would sound pretty shabby without us baritones! Or would they? Ralph Stanley and Ricky Skaggs both have recorded material featuring tenor, lead, and bass vocals with no baritone, and the result was award winning!  Sheesh. Makes a man feel unwanted.

But take heart! As long as there are quartets (literally 4 people) there will be a need for baritones.  Somebody has to sing those left over notes!  We baritones can actually be pretty thankful our voices settled right in between everybody else's.  Now we have become indispensable.  You might say without us, quartets couldn't exist!

All you baritones like me must feel pretty special now, don't you? What can you expect?  We're the most important guys on the team.  If I was y'all I'd ask for a raise.

A songwriter's sad tale.

Here I am.  With the most poetic thoughts in the world flowing from my mind, to the paper in front of me.  You might say I'm on a roll.  I can just hear the next #1 hit freely leaping about in my brain.  This is gonna be a good one!

All of a sudden, there's silence.  Something has clogged the path from my head to my paper, and that magnificent piece of musical genius dies within me.  Try though I may to revive the once spirited, buoyant, life of a would-be-winner, its too late.  We'll never know how the song would've ended, nor will we hear that wonderful, catchy chorus everybody would've loved to join in on.  A songwriter's tear falls from my eye in mourning of the passing of something that never became anything.

But thus is the life of a songwriter.

When I listen to music in my spare time, I listen to songs that have a lot of oomph in them.  This musically correct term means that the melody and lyrics work together to make a song worth singing.  I spend a lot of time studying musician's word choice and melody patterns in hopes that I too someday might write the next tear-jerker, or raise-your-hands-gospel song, or rambler ballad, whatever the case may be.  I've tried to, believe me!  The closest I got was what I consider my biggest hit: A Few Miles Down The Road.  You haven't heard of it?  Not many people have.  Those who have heard it told me they liked it and some even learned the words to sing it!  That is the biggest compliment any songwriter could get.

Ever listen to Celtic music?  Some of the world's greatest lyricists are Celtic music writers.  Bluegrassers are the same way.  Folk music has its moments of glory as well.  Just being in the crowd doesn't make me a good writer.  I have to 1.) Start writing  2.) Keep writing  and 3.) Write some more.  Eventually, I may be able to do what so many songwriters are capable of doing.

But there's still the little problem of originality.  "There's a girl on my mind I can't get over/ Yeah I'm dreaming about my Mary Ann/" Wait...have I heard this song before, or did I just write a good one?

Until then, I'll keep trying to put pen to paper and tell the world about life, hope, sorrow, and other such subjects.  I'll write that song about a Civil War Battle (that I actually have to do research for).  I'll write that song about my crush on Jennifer Willis (but I doubt she'll hear it, cause she doesn't know me from Adam's cat).  I'll write that song about the '64 Cadillac I don't really have (but I'll write about it anyway in case the folks at Cadillac give me a free one).

Well, gotta go!  There are songs to be written.  Stay creative, my friends!

Bluegrass...the manly way!

When I was starting out learning to play guitar, I did not own a capo.  I never felt like I needed one, either. After all, I had never seen Chet Atkins use one (didn't look that hard for it, granted)!  I figured only the "best" guitarists shunned such useless props.

But then I discovered the Key of B.  That's right.  That key which wouldn't sound right without a capo on the fourth fret.  It has that sound that is guaranteed to put hair on your chest.  That robust, crisp, resonate, powerful, driving, mash-y sound of  that fourth fret Key of B inspired me to man up and use a capo. My early days of picking rarely saw the key of B,  but after listening to the finest in Bluegrass, I couldn't imagine my music career apart from it!

The giants of bluegrass such as Terry Baucom, Tony Rice, JD Crowe, Doyle Lawson, even Mr. Monroe himself use this magnificent capo position to achieve nothing but that rugged bluegrass sound.

If you're planning to pick some bluegrass this week, do it the right way -- the MANLY way!  Key of B; Bring it on, Son!

Academia. A wonderful thing!

It is late at night and I am studying for a Calculus exam.  What fun.
As I try to clear my head to think, a near impossible task at this hour, I realize how blessed I am to even be doing this.   That's right!  I get a real blessing out of cranking an all-nighter.

Now, I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking "This is impossible! Nobody can read my mind!" and the second thing your thinking is "Mark, shouldn't you be studying instead of blogging?"  You're right.  Welcome to my random musings and short thoughts.  Welcome to my blog.