Tom T. Hall wrote, “Faster horses, younger women, older whiskey, more money.” I have a hunch Tom made a bundle off of that song, and got more money than he had before he wrote it.
Okay, so you blink your eyes a few times, and what seems like suddenly you are metaphorically nearing the end zone in the great football game of life. So…..you have to adjust. Think, “Slower horses, mature women, no whiskey, less money (fixed income). If you do adjust, it may prolong shaking hands with the Grim Reaper. Grim stuff here, I know. But as the years go by you need to slow your pace so that you can get to where you want to go; all places above ground, and wading in the bluegrass. Not under the green, green grass of home!
Back in the early days of FDF at Grass Valley, California, you could listen to bands all day, jam all night, sleep for a few hours, get up, and do it all over again. But now, these days, you catch a couple of bands in the morning, run for cover in an air conditioned building or RV to escape the intense afternoon heat, take a nap, and then catch the evening show at the main stage. Somebody please invent a time machine and make us geezers into Kids On Bluegrass! Nothing bothers kids, except homework. But wait, hold on a second. There is a time machine of sorts, you mind, which can bring you back to your youth (too bad you can’t stay there.)
I remember the first days of FDF at Grass Valley in the early 1970’s. Small stage, no big name bands at first, plenty of room for tent camping, your small RV (by today’s standards), or trailer. Speaking of faster horses, back in those early days I left the fairgrounds and festival for a while, and found a place to rent a horse. I rode that black devil for two hours non-stop. And just when I was feeling confident and filled with pride, I got bucked off! I would have got back on that stallion, but I ran out of quarters.
Younger women? Yep, back then we were all younger. Women, men, and our dogs. I remember sitting in the festival audience on the grassy lawn, looking up at the tall pine trees swaying in the breeze, noticing that a flock of Sweet Birds of Youth were on every branch. They hadn’t flown away. Not yet.
Whiskey kept us warm during the wee hours of the morning jams, when we were fit a fiddles, jamming until the sun came up, and paved the way for a few hours of sleep so we could get up and do it all over again the next day. Now it’s unlimited cups of java just so we can remember how to play a G chord.
More money? We had less back then. Wages were lower, and there was no internet to tempt you into buying guitars, banjos, mandolins and fiddles that you couldn’t afford, but bought them anyway. More money? Back then I remember starting out with nothing, and I have most of left now.
But now, back to the present. What’s ahead? Lots of things bluegrass. But the biggie, the 45th Annual FDF Bluegrass Festival in June 2020 at Grass Valley is in our sights. We’ll be there horsing around, with our women of the past 20, 30, 40, 50, 60 or more years, drinking ice tea, and handing over our money at the main gate to get into the festival = Still the best bang for your buck anywhere to see and hear great live bluegrass music.
By the way, if you are a KOB (Kid on Bluegrass) reading this, you can disregard it. It won’t make sense to you. Not yet….
