A HAND ON THE BIRD IS NOT A STEW IN THE POT

Hand Open your hands and count the lines – blue and gray but not confederated signs of wrinkled times when under baking suns they held a tool of labor. Slicing crosswise, blue and glistening another deeper mark, but is it work – Nobody tells of when we fall and cry...

A High Premium on Friendship

It seems like every year at Grass Valley some theme or concept develops for me throughout the week and then serves to encapsulate that particular Fathers Day Festival. The concept reverberating in my weary, half-awake brain as I pulled out of Gate Four last morning...

A late Sunday column

We’re very late getting today’s Welcome message up. I just arrived home from the Parkfeild Festival; thought I had today’s column covered but apparently not. I’d really like to tell you all about four wonderful days of bluegrass on the central...

A Liberal Vampire in North Carolina

I’m sitting here in the comfort of my home, dog sleeping at my side (like many dogs he wants to spoon against my side or legs…it amazes me how a 30 lb dog can push me or my wife off the bed), some clocks ticking, the occasional whirr of the refrigerator, a few passing...