Wow. This photo was taken by the wife of our banjo player back in, I don't know, '98-ish? Oh, yeah. Didn't I tell you? I used to sing lead in a bluegrass band called Southern Express. Surprised? Seriously, I love the stuff. In case you're uninformed or perhaps even misinformed (as so many are who think bluegrass is, like, a twangy spin-off of country western... not even... more like the other way around, hello), bluegrass is enigmatically close to jazz with all its extemporaneous solos, perfect harmonies, tales of love and loss and murder because of it. And, oh my, the people you meet at festivals are so nice. If they love you, they scream for more. You may sing three encores of one song, just so they can bask in the heartfelt (or murderous, whichever) lyrics, the supersonic guitar pickin', and/or the voices that make you swear you're in heaven, listenin' to the heavenly angels themselves.
Yep. We had a grand time. Unfortunately, we eventually went our separate ways. But I keep in touch with our guitar player, who still picks and gives lessons and is, like, one of the most talented people I know or, I suspect, ever will know. It's most definitely one of the best times of my life, a time I shall never forget for all the fond memories I made with my fellow band-mates.
As a treat, here's a video of Brittany & Briana Pearse singing the famous "Down in the Willow Garden," one of them there murder songs I was tellin' ya 'bout. :) Oh, and while you're at it, tell me one or two of your fondest memories. Is it from childhood? Adulthood? Were you a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger in another life?