Sailed through 15 F Saturday morning, no worse for the wear.
Month: March 2010
Sunday music: Motherless Children / Rosanne Cash
Great interview on WVBR Nonesuch today with Michael Streissguth, ” … music journalist and acknowledged authority on Johnny Cash & the Cash family, Michael is the author of Always Been There: Rosanne Cash, The List and the Spirit of Southern Music (DaCapo Press 2009) as well as a critically praised biography of Johnny Cash.” (Tracy: When do you start podcasting Bohemian Potluck so we can link to it?)
That’s Jerry Douglas on lap steel. Saw him with Buck White and the Down Home Folks circa 1980 at the No. 5, Binghamton, N.Y.
Well this took a little of the sting out of both Syracuse (alma mater, frosh team ’75-’76) and Cornell (employer) losing in the NCAA tourney last week. But as Cornell center Jeff Foote told The Onion, even the improbable becomes inevitable with a long enough timeline.
Actually, I thought I stood a chance at getting a mention in this month’s Gardening Gone Wild Picture This photo contest. That’s because I’ve been following the advice that judge Saxon Holt offered in a post about a year ago on Point of View Photographs. Saxon made me realize that if I was going to capture the impact of early spring ephemerals, I was going to have to get down and dirty. Muddy knees, muddy elbows and occasionally a muddy chest are the price you pay.
Thanks to Saxon and everyone at GGW for hosting this monthly event. Congrats to the other winners and thanks to everyone else who contributes inspiring photos each month.
Red Clay Halo
Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, for my friend and co-worker Marcia. She sent me pictures of a sod sofa installation she did down in North Carolina last week. I told her that for the folks maintaining it, it will be like trying to grow sod on the outside of a clay pot. She’ll be blogging about that installation soon, but meantime you can read about her sod-sofa experiences here.
And an all-time favorite: Time (The Revelator). Oh. Almost forgot: Elvis Presley Blues. (And he shook it like a hurricane. He shook it like to make it break. And he shook it like a holy roller, baby. With his soul at stake, soul at stake.)