All Jammed UP

OAll Jammed Up

I had a “first” this past weekend. I took my hammered dulcimer and myself up to Owensboro, Kentucky for the annual Ohio Valley Gathering, and I went alone. Something I’ve always wanted to do, this going alone, and I don’t really know why, other than being able to concentrate solely on the music. As a general rule, I usually go with a family member. I’ve been to several festivals with my sister, several with my brother, several with my parents, and several with all of us together. It always seemed like I spent entirely too much time doing trivial things that kept me from the music, like eating, for instance. By going alone I was allowed the luxury of “making do”, eating only when hungry, sleeping only when exhausted, bathing only in consideration of others. This left the rest of the time to play the music.

There are those of us who play, not because we can, but because we have to. That’s the only way I know how to describe this driving need to experience the music. I’ve come a long way from the years I spent at Tennessee Tech, studying the works of Vivaldi, Scarlatti, Beethoven, and Bach. No, now I play tunes with names like “Squirrel Heads and Gravy”, “Flop Ol’ Mule”, and “Devil Ate the Groundhog”, and “Cookin’ Soup Beans”. The names are entertainment enough, perhaps, but the tunes are rich in music theory. (This one starts in A Mixolydian, and goes to A minor in the B part. This other one is in 4/4 time, but is “crooked” meaning it has a 2/4 measure at the end of the B part.)

The Ohio Valley Gathering is primarily a festival for dulcimers, but while there were plenty of Appalachian dulcimers there, there were also several hammered dulcimers and other more traditional instruments, all acoustic. I found myself jamming mostly with the guitar players, the mandolins, the banjos, and the upright bass. There were a couple of concertinas thrown into the mix along with the usual harmonicas and penny whistles.

Geez, what fun! I played at one sitting for seven hours, and it only seemed like a few minutes. I parked myself in the lobby of the Executive Inn at Rivermont, and people came and went all day. I was playing mostly with people that I had never even met before. I couldn’t tell you what there names were, even after sharing music for hours, but I will recognize them at the next gathering, just like I had people come up to me this year and say, “I remember playing with you up in Evansville”. I will remember the man in the bowler hat, because he shared a lovely tune that he had written with the rest of us. I will remember the old woman in the wheel chair, because she simply loved to play. I will remember the woman with the beautiful singing voice.
We played Irish Aires, ballads, and jigs that were born way before our great-great grandfathers were a just a twinkle in anybody’s eye. We played old fiddle tunes, (my favorites) until our hearts were pounding the same rhythm as the beat. We played a few old church songs when requested, and loved the glistening in the eyes of the elderly that made the requests.
Oh yeah, I’ve been refreshed. I’ve been renewed. I’m all jammed up, (at least until the next big gathering at Cumberland Gap the first weekend in May).
Jammed up, yes. Jammed out? Won’t happen!
riginally published in April 2008 in the Upper Cumberland NOW