Heady from my Teaching Artist seminar, I decided to head out to the Boyertown Jam, one of the friendliest acoustic sessions I elect to frequent. Tonight, Amy Forsythe was not in charge, so was a motley crew to start off with, all very familiar players and now good friends.

I really enjoy the dynamics of these jams. Wildly different skill levels, music genres but a very common dedication to making music together, here and now. The humor is particularly cutting edge, with most folks taking the bait and enjoying the banter. I tend to add quite a bit of salt and pepper to the process, lightly sprinkled with a bad word or two, but always slightly, ever so slightly, irreverent.

I love to lead my songs (Diddy Wah Diddy, Blue Mule, even Voodoo Chile ?!) but really like to sit back, figure out the songs and structures (the engineer in me), and try to add my guitar and mandolin to support the song. I don’t get these situations very often, and it remains an important monthly date on my calendar. Soul music, for sure.

I have made some trans-generational connections in all of my work, but I enjoyed some great spontaneity with a fine cellist, folkie, shoeless, vocalist, artiste. She gets it and she’s still in a local high school. Her wit and her wits are spot on. We traded licks on mando and cello, recklessly finished some of the tunes, traded leads, shared a dog. When I used my one and only “fuck you” card earlier (a new Boyertown jam rule), she gave me hers.

These comfortable jam situations are incredibly rich and connective on so many levels. It’s the intellectual part is the most stimulating for me. My brain tingles. …

A nice quiet drive back home under a sliver of a moon. A great day on the planet.