CHAPTER FIFTY TWO: BLUEGRASS IS HOT, BUT FLORIDA IS HOTTER

CHAPTER FIFTY TWO:  BLUEGRASS IS HOT, BUT FLORIDA IS HOTTER

One last vignette from Jekyll Island:

We went to the 37^th annual bluegrass festival at the JI Convention Center on January 3. The Admiral noted that we were the youngest people there – by far. This was somewhat of an exaggeration, but what do you expect from a captain who calls himself The Admiral? I saw at least two people in the audience of several hundred who appeared to be younger than we are. And at least a few of the musicians were too. But most of the musicians were up there. That could explain why they sang a lot about “the next life” and getting to heaven to meet God. One of the groups would be great at revival meetings. I love Gospel, and so I enjoyed Amazing Grace and Go Tell It On the Mountain. I even sang along, as my Moravian upbringing taught me to love sacred music. Sure, it was Bach and Handel that the Moravians doted on, but Amazing Grace can hold a torch to those classical guys. Oh yeah.

One of the most extraordinary parts of the bluegrass festival was the nonagenarian who painfully walked on stage, barely staying on his feet, who then proceeded to pick the hell out of the “claw banjo”. He is apparently one of the few claw banjo masters left on this earth, and he has not lost a beat. His fingers and hands were so nimble, and the younger guys who invited him on stage to join their group could barely keep up with him. He played a few numbers, got a standing ovation, then slowly and painfully shuffled off the stage.

Not all of the groups had a Gospel bent. The “Nothin’ Fancy” group, comprised of 5 phenomenal instrumentalists (guitar, mandolin, banjo, fiddle, bass electric guitar), played its biggest hit: I Met My Baby in the Porta John Line. This tune is all over YouTube, if you want to hear it and see it performed. It was introduced as their most popular love song. It has great lyrics and a catchy tune – what did they say on American Bandstand? I’d give it a 4 out of 5. Of course, that was probably a Porta John line at a tent revival meeting. Still, it wasn’t overtly religious.

Dailey and Vincent were the last act. They have been performers of the year for 4 years running in the bluegrass circuit. They have a total of seven incredible musicians in the group. And one of them has the deepest bass voice I have ever heard. The banjo picker moved his fingers so fast, it looked like he wasn’t moving them at all – just blurs. The mandolin player was a ham, but virtuoso. The fiddle player more than held his own. Dailey played a lot of instruments, and also sang a cappella. Vincent played the bass and the guitar. The last part of the act was their rendition of the Grand Ole Opry, as each band member took his turn to be Marty Robbins, Johnny Cash, or some other country great. Who knew that bluegrass musicians were mimics too?

There were some fine women in some of the groups too. The Gary Waldrep group, which had invited the claw banjo player to join them, had two women (guitar and fiddle) in the group. Paul Williams and the Victory Trio had a woman playing bass (who was not introduced – how rude!). Some of the biggest blue grass stars are women – check out Rhonda Vincent and the Rage. They were not at Jekyll Island. The first group that we heard, the Crowe Brothers, were indeed brothers, and they had a very tight group of four musicians who played fast and furiously. If you are into bluegrass, go hear this group wherever and whenever you can. You can hear them every Thursday night at their home in the hills somewhere in North Carolina during the summer months. Or buy their CDs. You will not be disappointed.

Before there was Sarah Palin dropping the “g” on every gerundive, there were the bluegrass musicians speaking entirely without the “g”. And their favorite word (if it’s a word) is ‘uns’, as in “you’un’s”, “young’uns”, and get this, “grandyoung’uns”. That’s really a word in Georgia, and not just at bluegrass festivals. I heard a woman at the Brunswick, Georgia Labcorp say that she had to work from midnight to 8 a.m. because her co-worker had to care for her sick grandyoung’uns. No lie. We have been in the State of Florida for the past 4 days and to this date, no one has used any version of “’uns” yet. The young dock master at the River’s Edge Marina in St. Augustine, responded “Right On” to every statement we made. Talk about a time warp. Power to the People, Right On! One of the pleasures of travel – anywhere – is learning the idioms that are popular. In Berlin, Germany many years ago, everything was “dufte”, meaning “cool” or “neat”. I bet if I returned there I would be dated immediately if I used that word from the sixties.

Okay, back to the present. Today, January 8, post-BCS debacle, we cruised from Daytona Beach to Titusville, the land of Cape Canaveral. To our amazement, some porpoises, two of them, decided to race Slow Motion again. They had come up to the boat, and the Admiral noticed that they both did a quick U turn to position themselves at the bow of the boat – and the race was on! I ran down to join them and I talked to them in a high, squeaky voice (like the one grownups use with kids). They turned sideways and looked at me like I was crazy, but they kept racing Slow Motion. And I got some more outstanding videos. Keep in mind that our top speed at that time was about 8 miles an hour, so we were not abusing them. Besides, they have free will, and if they want to work out by swimming seven minute miles next to Slow Motion, we can’t stop them. The Admiral is busy making lassoes, in case some other porpoises join us. He figures we can hitch Slow Motion to them and save on diesel fuel. Just kidding!

No socks as I write this Blog! No shoes! No sweatshirt! It’s warm, finally, it’s warm. The low tonight is around 65 and the high tomorrow, drum roll, is going to be 80. Goodbye long pants, hello shorts. The Admiral and I both got wicked sunburns on our faces today. We were not prepared for this heat wave after so many months of cold, damp, rainy weather. The water here is still too cold for the manatees, according to the Titusville dock master. That’s odd, because they are so blubbery. You would think they could hang out in Arctic waters with all that fat on their bodies. But nothing about manatees makes sense. Have you ever seen one? If you have ever seen the cult film Tremors with Kevin Bacon, then you know what a manatee looks like – just like those giant worms that roared under the earth and came up to suck down whole people and their cars.

This Space Coast (what they call the area around Cape Canaveral) is the home to 330 different species of birds. If you are a birder, come on down! Birds dominate whole islands in the Mosquito Lagoon and the Indian River. This fishing must be great right now. Or they just got tired of the cold temps up north and flew here for the warm rays. There are the full time dwellers, like the pelicans, herons, egrets, and cormorants – not to exclude the ubiquitous seagulls. And there are the visitors from the south, the roseate spoonbills and other exotica. While the porpoises are a rare treat, the birds never fail to entertain us, as we cruise along. They fight over space on day markers, they dive bomb recklessly into the waters from dizzying heights, they effortlessly glide about 2 feet above the waterway, and they perch themselves right next to people fishing, just waiting for them to hook and pull in their next meal.

This part of the waterway is not nearly as challenging as the wild rivers and inlets in the Carolinas and Georgia. For the past two days, we have been traveling down a narrow channel, sometimes through a manmade cut, with Slow Motion on autopilot. The winds have been decent, and the currents only get tricky around the inlets. There are lots of houses on both sides of the waterway for long stretches. Today there were mansions on one side and modest bungalows on the other. I picture two star-crossed lovers jumping into the waterway from their respective shores and meeting in the middle to consummate their love, as their parents and friends yell at them to come back and resist the “forbidden fruit” of the “other” shore. But that’s just my imagination running amok. Still, who can’t resist a story about a man or woman falling in love with a person who is in a different class from them? That’s what sells tickets to Les Miz, right? And you thought it was about the French Revolution?

For any Notre Dame fans reading this Blog – no, that just wouldn’t happen. Now that college football is finally and ignominiously over for a while, we can turn our attention to America’s sport. Spring training is a month away. Go Giants!