Cuppa Joe’s

I want to tell you about my son, Phil.  The story starts on a warm July evening in 1997.  I’ve driven to the BART station in Fremont to pick up my oldest son, Phillip, who’s traveled down from school in Berkeley so he and I can attend a little bluegrass...

Customer Service – A Lost Art?

Most old guys like me view the past through a gauzy rose-colored lens. Food was better, the sky was bluer, nobody ever really got hurt, politicians were honest, nobody ever locked their doors, and so on and so forth. I also think of customer service in this way. Part...

Cutting a demo

Like many bluegrass pickers in the CBA I belong to a band. That’s just how bluegrass people are. The bands usually don’t get rich or famous but it’s fun to play gigs at coffee houses and small festivals. For one thing it really helps your playing to...

Dailey and Vincent

Hello my article readers! The recent news in music and more specifically in bluegrass, was the Grammy’s. Which means the rid of tension of who will win the awards. (Even thought the Grammy system is pathetically flawed where the word “best” actually means “most...

DAMNED IF YOU DO AND DAMNED IF YOU DON’T

One, or at least this one—me—will occasionally look back over the more vivid moments of his life and swear that just could not have happened. One such moment occurred nearly a lifetime ago while I attended graduate school and beat my head against the wall trying to...