I really enjoyed Ted Lehman’s column from Monday (“Risk and the Issue of Professional vs. Talented Amateur”). In it, he outlines the considerable distinction between true professional musicians and amateur musicians, even extremely talented amateurs. I have peered across the gulfs between myself and extremely talented amateurs, and the even wider gulf between me and true professionals.
The pros play a level consistently beyond my reach, but the times I’ve had a chance to share a jam (or even a stage on rare occasions), it was fun to fantasize about “what if” – what if I could close that gap? Well that’s not going to happen.
Truth be told, nearly every musician I encounter has something about their playing I admire. For me, admiration is not a source of painful envy, but actually an emotion to savor. It helps add flavor to personal interactions, doesn’t it? It’s like when you have a conversation at a cocktail party with a really interesting person. You wish you were as interesting, but there’s a thrill sharing their orbit for a while.
I had this sensation over and over again at the recent Great 48 Jam in Bakersfield. I lapped it all up. Iplayed with people of all skill levels, and every single jam had something I could admire and music that made me feel good that I made the trip.
Great feelings were the order of the day, every day. Every nook and cranny of the Doubletree had folks picking and grinning! It sounds like a cliche but it was literally true – folks were in circles, some standing, some sitting, picking bluegrass, and everybody was smiling. Some were truly gifted amateurs, and they strove to get everything right – getting the solos just right, and seeking a precise vocal harmony stack.
Others were not looking to polish anything – they were just in the moment, and so what if the jam had three mandolins, four guitars, two banjos, three fiddles and a pair of basses. Harmony stack? How about three parts lead, two parts tenor and three baritones. And mixed amongst the joyous cacophony, peals of laughter as friends revel in each other’s company. There is a great deal to admire in this setting, believe me!
So, it’s jam, jam, jam, and laugh – then repeat, repeat repeat until the hands of the clock meet at the top. You know what that means, right? Yes! It means finding Deb Livermore’s Grilled Cheese Sandwich Factory! Ingest some carbs and curds and then get back at the jamming.
I don’t know of any endeavor that brings so many people together, often for the first time, for such easy pleasure. Music is the conversation that binds us all together, and we get to ignore that “real world” that can be so annoying – if only for a few days. For the CBA, and many of the other bluegrass associations in California, this event is a way to announce the thawing of our barely discernible winter, and whet our appetites for the festival season to come.
