Cell Perches & HVO

Just over a month ago, our nearby capital city was besieged with a tornado followed promptly by flooding from the rain-swollen Missouri River. Fortunately, there were no fatalities from theses calamities, but the townspeople still reel from the exhausting impact of two almost simultaneous natural disasters and troublesome resurging water levels of the river.

On the night of the tornado, a Facebook photo captured the roiling tumult of a malevolent tornado-spawning cloud as it churned across the outskirts of the city.  Shortly thereafter, the cresting Missouri River breached its banks and spilled into the midtown area and over miles of surrounding floodplains.

With the capital building dome seen faintly in the distant mid photo, sandbags stand guard over unpredictable flood waters that threaten an off ramp approach to the Jefferson City Bridge near the submerged municipal airport.

The flood tide finally relented and started to slowly ebb weeks later, and folks began to recover from the storm damage. Bluegrass musicians gathered at a capital city yogurt shop for a sidewalk summer jam. Children and passers-by applauded the cheerful homespun music and harmony singing, and our clogger instructed dance steps to those daring enough to kick-up their heels.

Heartened by the rebounding festive community spirit, an on-looking citizen exclaimed,  “This is what Jefferson City needs!”

A message of political activism on a folk musician`s instrument is not new. Pete Seeger`s banjos often displayed a decree condemning hate. In 1957, he was indicted for contempt of Congress for refusing to cooperate  with the House Un-American Activities Committee, a conviction that was overturned in 1962. His legendary singing group, the Weavers, was blacklisted during the McCarthy era. One of Seeger`s personally autographed 5-string long necks is in the American Banjo Museum collection in Oklahoma City where it is admired by visiting patrons.

American songster Woody Guthrie served in the merchant marine during World War II. On his first voyage, his ship hit a mine. On his last tour of sea duty, his ship was torpedoed off Utah Beach during the Normandy Invasion.

His guitar of that era issued a stern warning to oppressive regimes.

Let us hope that music of the Holiday Season might foster peace and understanding among all peoples. Through the all-inclusive language of song, a homespun but worthy model of fellowship and collegiality among folks of diverse political persuasions dwells in our monthly jam session at the capital city yogurt shop.

Music is a universal language without borders. As echoed in the 1971 Coca Cola advertisement that later became a pop tune,  ” I`d like to teach the world to sing/In perfect harmony.” All blessings this Season to our BRC readers.

A few steps from the back door of the lakeside BRC workshop, a couple of railroad ties float inconspicuously behind a row of four newly constructed banjos. Moored by anchors to the bottom, these hefty timbers serve as turtle roosts for a colony of terrapins that live in the shade of our favorite weeping willow tree.

As many as 20 or more turtles will sometimes mount the ramps in mild weather, but the sweltering mid summer temperatures have driven the tortoises to cooler, deeper waters.  Terrapins can live up to 35 years, and one massive but ancient turtle that we call “Bruno” sinks the railroad tie with his colossal frame when he climbs aboard.  His mate “Brunehilde” is nearly as large but declines to clamber-up the ramps.

At a recent Sunday afternoon brew pub gig benefiting the Children`s Hospital, an anonymous sketch artist in the audience quietly penned images of our bass player propelling the other jammers who were clustered by him.

After the band`s wrap-up song, the artist shyly handed these sketches to the BRC founder while the musicians packed-up their instruments.

The bandleader appreciatively studied the images in close detail. He then turned slowly, not unlike a turtle, to offer a hearty thanks, but the artist had silently disappeared. We hope someday that this illustrator will reappear in our audience, so we can warmly applaud his drawing skills.

Some people are plagued to identify existential meaning in their mundane lives by asking themselves questions. Bluegrass musicians are plagued at jam sessions to identify the key in which the next tune will be played by asking themselves questions like: Is a capo needed? Did I remember to bring a capo? Does anyone have an extra capo to lend? What are the words of the group chorus of this number? As pickers re-tune their instruments (an endless tyranny of the banjo)  and chat between songs, there is a background tide of noise through which the title, tempo, and key of the next number must be announced. To penetrate these subtle but competing distractions, the song leader will typically designate the key of the tune and append it with a monosyllabic word to reenforce that letter of the alphabet like a military call letter ( Alpha, Bravo, Charley, etc.). Hence, the Key of D major would be proclaimed as “D-dog.” Over the years, the BRC founder`s band has evolved its unique and fun-filled musical key identifying system:

A-  artistically, or  alternately, “the Canadian key of Aye?” More recently, aardvark.

D- Django

C- Chopin

G- gnu or sometimes, “The gnarled gnome gnashed its teeth at the gnat-covered gnu.”

B major- Beethoven, Brahms, or Bach  (the choice is yours…)

B flat- Bartok (your choice again, but alternates  like ` Bluegrass` are ok)

The keystone to successfully establishing the key signature of an upcoming tune in a jam session is by keeping your fellow musicians keenly keyed into to the key of the song by whatever system works for you and your picking`pals.

Above are cross streets signs that one might encounter on a wintry stroll only a block from the BRC workshop and its keepsake Vega Martin Banjo Info archives. The BRC wishes all its faithful readers the Very Best in 2018!

In 1804, the Lewis and Clark Expedition observed many natural saltwater springs in the Missouri Valley. The BRC founder and his bassist frequently bicycle along the shores of Big Muddy where the expedition trekked and camped. Moments after the below trailside photo was taken, a magnificent bald eagle swooped overhead in full flight bathed in morning sunlight.

The largest salt spring was `Boone`s Lick’ named after two of pioneer Daniel Boone`s sons , Nathan and Daniel, who partnered-up with two other entrepreneurs in 1805 to harvest commercial salt.  A few remnants of their frontier work site remain on the grounds of what is now the Boonslick State Park. It is the site of a yearly autumn Folk Festival featuring local arts and crafts and traditional Missouri music. An enthusiast exhibits a spectacular Indian arrowhead collection, and storytelling Civil War reenactors have a booth of relics.

For many years, the festival`s jam session was cultivated by fiddler John White who recently passed away at age 80. He was a master fiddler who taught musicianship for 18 years at the Bethel Youth Fiddle Camp as well as being  an instructor for the Missouri Traditional Arts Apprentice Program.

As pictured at the brew pub (left) where the BRC founder`s band performs on Sunday afternoons, John is seen graciously sitting-in on some tunes during one of our weekly jam sessions to benefit  the Children`s Hospital. John was a generous teacher  and a wonderful fiddler who will be missed by all.