It was our first attempt and it proved interesting, but successful. There were some friends from the old jam that showed up, good players and good friends.

The space is a little strange: a bar, high ceilings, bar TV, but the staff checked in during the launch and seemed supportive. The bartender turned out to be a Steppin’ Out! fan from long ago. It was a little hard for folks to hear one another, but I was in the middle so it was hard for me to judge. If it gets any bigger, it could be a problem.

It was simply a delight to be back amongst friends, spinning tunes and tales with each other. A nice variety of folk tunes, pop tunes, old rock and roll, songs in the key of “we”. I chimed in with an assortment of Hank, John Gorka and others that set the stage for a good session.

There was another event going on during the day with my good friends Jack Murray, Doug Ashby and others, but we held our own in our little niche at the bar. I look forward to more of these sessions in the hills of Macungie.

A new friend Mike Patrick invited me to take part in a John Prine Tribute at The Pattenburg House from 4 to 7 pm on Sunday afternoon, along with a string of other acoustic players. I jumped at the chance to go play for some new folks in NJ, and the trip to Asbury, NJ is a mere half hour away. My friends Joe Janci and Bill Ihling were signed up, so I would know a few folks.

I said I’d be a little late, since I had to do a Steppin’ Out! rehearsal earlier that afternoon (and after the Saucon Valley FM gig), so I got there about 45 minutes late. The host Mike Patrick was on stage when I arrived, and, unfortunately, I missed Joe and Bill. I regret not being able to support their sets.

Pattenburg House in Asbury, NJ

Bill said he was the sacrificial opener, but benefited from having a quiet, listening audience (before folks got liquored up). I got to absorb the situation while Mike was doing his set – take in the bar, the audience, Mike’s bar room talents. He’s obviously at home on this stage and with this audience though I still feel uncomfortable with players and their I-pads on stage. Even though, in situations like this where you might be covering relatively unfamiliar songs when the I-pad is useful, that device separates one from your main obligation to interact with the audience. Flipping through lyrics gets to me, luddite that I am.

Various other guys came up to cover John Prine’s great repertoire and it was great to hear the audience singing along with many of these songs. A very friendly and supported group of folks. John’s songs are truly American poetry of the finest kind.

Eventually, it was my turn to do the last set before everyone would come up and sing Paradise. I had only two Prine songs to offer – I didn’t want to do a new one cold – so I started with Frying Pan, a quick, bluegrassy tune with three verses, one I used to do with The Sheiks. I decided to follow with Far From Me, a rather heavy break-up song that I’ve been doing recently. I picked it up again after the breakup of my marriage eleven years ago, and it hits close to home and is easy to perform with heart. I could feel the audience react to the power of this song, and I was able to quiet the barroom with this song. That felt good.

I was allowed to do a couple more songs. I did Lessons from Pete, and screwed up the order of the 3rd and 4th verses (it’s always something…) but otherwise played it well. I then did Pay BoDiddley and invited one fellow who was up on stage earlier to play some lead acoustic guitar. He was a little confused (especially with a one chord song), but played well and gave me a little breather from the spotlight. I thanked folks and Mike for the opportunity to play in a new situation and got off stage.

The Paradise finale was scattered but spirited, as it should be. Afterwards, I chatted with some folks, including a fan of Live From Godfrey Daniels radio show. I remarked that I was surprised West Jersey folk had radios. I gave out a few Troubadour CDs, thanked the other players for their sets and headed back to the Lehigh Valley.

A good day of making music.

The original Burnside House.

I’ve played Burnside Plantation for many, many years, going back to my friend Gertie Fox’s introduction of this special place before there was nothing a beat-up old house down a dirt road. There were a couple of years when I wasn’t invited to play here, but this year I got to play the Blueberry Festival in the summer and this relatively new Apple Days in the fall. Not a high-paying gig, but I’m not picky. I’d rather work.

Since they have prohibited vehicles on site, I hiked in from a near-by parking lot with my guitar and a box of CDs. I played at the Brewery Stage further up the hill, and I had a 11:45 set following my friend Nick Franclik to an empty tent (save for the five or six volunteers). Over the course of the next hour and a half, I played to some young families, a few older folks (including a couple with links to my Lehigh days over 50 years ago!), and assorted others.

Burnside Plantation

I made a point of striking up conversations about peanut butter, dogs, etc. and succeeded in drawing the audience in and drawing out the set to fit the time given to me. I played well with little cramping up in my left hand, I did well with the lyrics, for the most part (I did repeat a couple verses), and was able to engage the crowd with a mix of kids and adult material. Of course, the couple of toddler girls that approached the stage and danced worked wonders in giving the audience something to look at other than the old guy on stage.

It was another perfect weather day, and though it wasn’t particularly crowded, I thought I did a really good job entertaining the folks. I opened the envelop with the check and it had my old Madison, CT address on it, going back 16 years. Sheesh.

I got a relatively last minute gig for a Halloween campfire at Camel Hump Farm on Saturday night – two sets at 5  and 7 pm. There was an extra special event, a full “hunter’s full moon” on the rise.

The folks on the farm set up a nice fire pit in an open field and there was a good fire started when I got there. I got out my 000-1R to tune up before the first set with only a few folks around. The bulk of the audience would be arriving at the end of walk around 5 pm. The temperature was in the mid 40’s, not too bad so far.

The group arrived and I started in with Peanut Butter, Tutti Tah, etc. and, with a good mix of parents and kids, the interaction was good. I found myself blanking on the second verse of Giants which showed me how out of shape my repertoire is in these Covid times. It was a good set. The adults had a really good time, and there was lots of back and forth with them. (“What’s a rhyme with witch? Careful, adults…”) I headed back to my car to regroup for the 7 pm set and review Giant on my CD player. Sheesh.

I headed down for the 7 pm set with a number of folks already sitting around the campfire. It was dark now, getting colder so I decided to start 5 minutes early. As it turns out, there were only a couple families on the walking tour, so it was a good choice. There were a bunch of teenage girls across from me and they got into the music. As I finally gathered, they were the farm interns which explained their willingness to get involved, not always a given with that age group. (I thanked Vickie, the farm’s coordinator, later for their positive energy). A smaller audience, but a good one.

The full moon rose over a copse to my left during this set so we took some time out to let out a good, sustained howl. It gave the whole evening a special punctuation mark. Though it was colder, the fire and my standing during the performances kept me sufficiently warm, and that carried through the ride home. I got my check this time, with the amount from the truant one three months ago tacked on.

I was drained though, from the gig. Again, I’m physically out of shape performance-wise but my instincts were sharp, the chatter was entertaining. Vickie commented, before I drove off, that she simply feels good when I’m there, knowing that things will be fine. That’s nice to hear, a good way to finish the gig and drive home with that on my mind.

I sign up for the Fall and Spring Open House at Flint Hill every year, and though it only pays cheese, I embrace the chance to support Kathy and her efforts on this project. It’s a functional farm with goats, horses, gardens, etc. with an educational focus. Lots of community volunteers and events for the family.

It was a spectacular day, and I was fortunate to play outdoors in the nook of the small bank barn, my favorite place. Hay bales for seats, no PA and folks wandering by checking out the animals. It was a small turn-out this morning; they do better on a Sunday, but this was the only time I could do it. Regardless, if it’s just Dave Reber and me doing hammered dulcimer tunes or the occasional family that drops by, I’m fine with it all.

I used my borrowed Republic Tri-cone today, after trying it out at the Emmaus Jam on Thursday. It’s a mighty instrument, loud and with an interesting sound. It’s a treat to play one of these instruments, especially when it’s well crafted. (That’s the trick).

I got paid in goat cheese: Smoked Mozzarella, Smoked Italian Herb and Smoked Ricotta Firma. Kathy was most generous, mostly because she has great respect for me, which makes me a little bashful. But I am grateful for that.

I took time to relish the warm sun, the changing colors of the trees and a stunning blue sky. A good day working for cheese.

There were showers in the forecast for my monthly gig at Hackett Winery, so I checked in with Bob and he said that a tent with lights was set up, and that rain was supposed to hold off until later in the evening. So, I packed up and headed up to New Tripoli.

As I pulled in, there were only a couple of women in the club house, and as I started to figure out where to play in the tent area, the skies opened up with a torrential downpour. I figured out where to plug in and not get electrocuted, find a spot where there wasn’t any creeping puddles and started in to an empty space.

As I began to consider packing it in, a couple of acquaintances showed up so, as they got some wine from inside, I settled in for the evening. John runs a local guitar shop, so I was pleased to have an intelligent audience with he and his wife. As I played, we shared some good conversation, while a few other couples came on out and sat down.

Still, I don’t have the popular repertoire for folks who don’t know me or my reputation. Beatles, Tom Petty, and I often only know one Prine song, etc. Still, I try to play my best material and I play it well.

In better weather.

A small van from a nearby hotel dropped off a whole bunch of young women, and they headed inside the club house where they had a grand ole time. I was glad that I was outside since the noise got to be pretty loud.

As the evening came to a close, with only three folks in the tent, I packed it in, headed inside to get paid.

Bob checked the till and said that it wasn’t a particularly good cash night, so I ended up settling for less than my fee while he offered me a bottle of wine as a tip. I’m willing to make a deal on my fee when there is a small crowd due to the weather, but, frankly, I came away feeling somewhat dissatisfied with the arrangement. This rarely happens and reminded me of the nature of playing in bars (and, apparently wineries) for a living.

I wish I had more of a draw and a repertoire that is more suited for these kind of gigs.

My friend Tom Carpenter asked if I would do a set at a life celebration of radio programmer and folk music promoter Scott Judy who passed away in the late summer. I had done a kids’ show for him last year at the annex of this larger theater – The Sherman – in downtown Stroudsburg. Today’s show was in the main theater itself.

I was the fourth of five regional acts: Em Mure, soloist, and a NJ folk-rock quintet from northern NJ, The Folkswagon. Tom did a short set and I followed with a 40 minute set. A regional blues band Carol Fredericks & the Dirty Jersey Band finished up.

Though there were only a handful of folks in the audience, we performers were treated to a full sound and stage set up, so I really enjoyed doing a set in this atmosphere, one I rarely get to do these days. It recalled gigs at the Philly Folk Festival and Christmas gigs at Symphony Hall. These always are tremendous opportunities to work on this kind of stagecraft.

I worked out a set of my good stuff and was able to nail the material and not break a string. Having just done three and a half hours of music, in some brutal weather conditions, it was no small thing to make it through the set without popping one.  If I had, there would be no way to gracefully change a string and resume the set.

I was able to chat comfortably about my songs and what I do as a musician/performer, and though there were some folks in the audience who were very familiar with my material, I was able to engage and entertain the small audience. Again, my 000-15M sounded like a cannon. “It sounded THIS big…” said my friend Dave Eshbach.

At the end, folk thanked me, including members of Scott’s family, but I was physically whipped on the drive home. I took the scenic route through the Poconos which helped me digest this wonderful opportunity to play a big stage and do a professional job for a good cause.