In the merry month of May...

as many an Anglo Trad song would have it... this May I went a-folking downstate for the Central Ohio Folk Festival. Last year May had started out with a weekend of making music off in the wilds of Pennsylvania. Plans for doing that this year fell through when JanC was not well enough to go. I'd had a wretched spring, or at least I FELT wretched with a month long battle with bronchitis, sinusitis and hand strain. I hadn't recovered enough ambition to go alone, so I postponed carousing for another week to go to COFF. (An ironic acronym after the spring long Cough That Would Not Die)

The lure was too much- all the headline groups were people I knew, loved, and in some cases, hadn't seen for way too many years. Cherished crazies from northern Ohio, the Smokin Fez Monkeys, were there to do their Jugbandbizzare best. From Michigan Mustard's Retreat, who've been friends for nearly 25 years were part of a larger group, "The Yellow Room Gang" that also included Matt Watroba, who I've enjoyed singing with for years, at Folk Alliance or festivals, but had only a handful of previous experiences in seeing him as a mainstage performer. The end of the show headliner was Canadian James Keelahagn, who I'd not seen for a decade or more. I'd vivid memories of a time he appeared here in a concert I helped present, in an unusual venue - the chapel of a small Catholic college. I'd gone to bring him his fee and record sales proceeds, and walked into him changing - temporarily shirtless- with long hair flowing, in the sacristy of the chapel. One of dozens of priceless Celtic Ceol moments, that.

Friday afternoon: slow to get on the road, as the Grace Car had "needs" a bit beyond what her mechanic and I had expected. 'Twas hot on Friday. really. 85° in Columbus at 9:00 pm when Ellen and I went out to dinner. I had a brief glimpse of her two feral kitties and enjoyed trading "whatcha been up to" stories with her, since it had been a good handful of years since I'd seen her when I'd do Winterfair in December at the State Fairgrounds- nearly a decade, I think.
Saturday morning I intended to get going early, as I still had to register at the festival, find it, AND navigate around a large bicycle rally that takes place through Ellen's neighborhood and the direction I was heading. '

I got myself to the festival grounds in good time, but Oh, the temperature had dropped. Dramatically dropped. I heard the high expected was 55° and I don't know that we even hit that, as the wind was ferocious adding a windchill that reminded me of winter on the prairie. I had known evening temperatures would be lower, and brought some warm pants and layers of sweaters with that in mind. The only jacket-coat like thing I had was my lovely purple wool ruana, which I wore all the time & had plenty of compliments about ("would you mind if I felt your shawl..?) I also wore a brim style chapeau with a beaded hatband, so my pinned up hair could fit out the top. The wicked wind precluded wearing my hair down for my fancy flower hat - I'd NO desire to end up an accidental rastafarian. By ten o'clock I'd added so many layers that I had on socks, long velvet pants, a floor length full skirt, two layers of sweaters and a long tunic top, under the ruana. I didn't look TOO bag lady, but someone asked me if that (the hat, ruana, beadwork, etc) was my "everyday" dress. Well yes, sez I, just not ALL of it on the SAME day, normally!

The whole festival, COFF, was much different from one I'd been to before. The emphasis was very definitely on improving instrumental skills and knowledge, in particular dulcimers. I'd go so far as to call it dulcimer-centric. I don't think I'd seen so many lap dulcimer options since the demise of the (long gone, much missed) Black Swamp Dulcimer Festival. There were day long performance stages - two of those, concerts in the manstaige tent, and one smaller tent. The other four tents were dedicated to workshops or song swap sessions. Another wealth this festival has is in (really good quality) singer-song writers. That'd describe most of the headliners - with folks from the Yellow Room Gang and Keelahagn doing a 2-day songwriters' class. Not that trad was completely ignored - far from it. I was amused that out in this lovely Columbus Metro Park I heard one of the most academic talks based on a single song since I heard Joe Hickerson give the life history of "Bright Morning Stars" at the University of Chicago festival, ages ago. It 'twas in this same academic atmosphere that I discovered a traditional folk instrument to loathe.

Some folks cant abide banjos
Many people run from hammer dulcimers
Drummers get a bad rap regularly
Bagpipers are expected to keep moving to be less of a target.

More loathsome than all of these is the bazooka.

Bazooka's not a folk instrument, you say? Well... it sounds a bit like bouzouki, but I'm talking about acoustic mouth driven bazooka bubble gum. Lawd, oh lawd, there was a lad who could pop his gum at a heretofore unimaginable volume. It CRACK! sounded like someone clapping CRACK! once, at random intervals. You never quite knew CRACK! when he'd pop his gum again. People craning their necks to see who was the perpetrator CRACK! and their annoyed glares phased this guy not at all. CRACK! I have to admit, this is one of my least favorite things that people can do in public, but this was above and beyond. Too much CRACK! spoils the craic, sez I.

The Fez Monkeys did a Jug band workshop with the stated intent of having the participants be part of their mainstage appearance that evening. Kazoos were passed out. Small jugs were loaned. Percussion instruments were put into willing hands. One guy came with a totally Fez Monkeyish washboard with...er... attachments (cowbell, cymbal, bike horn, bells, cans) Fun, silliness, music, noise & sent on our way chuckling.

A real joy in a new festival in a new area is you don't know the local talent, or what they do, and it's all gloriously fresh. The COFF program had descriptive biographies, and even more welcome writeups about each of the workshops to help make decisions (5 tents, 2 side stages, one main stage - LOTS of decisions). I made some good choices, some eh choices, and some timeslots just had nothing that interested me, a permanently lap dulcimerless lass. It gave me time to talk with a number of interesting folks, including already seen performers who impressed me, look at the recordings and instruments and "stuff" on sale, and get some food now and then.

I'd hauled along serious instrumentation, but with how cold it was, didn't worry 'bout leaving them in the car. It's terribly unwieldy to haul folding chair, autoharp, bowed psaltery, concertina and a tote bag everywhere you go. Eventually, I stocked up my lovely folding chair (with multiple side pockets) with my tea bottle, program, and stuck other necessities in my wee bag worn bandolier style. I took along a blanket with the chair to go to the evening concert. First up were the Fez Monkeys, and I knew we'd be joining them the second half of their set. As I sat there I panicked - I'd left my Fez Monkeys OFFICIAL kazoo in my tote bag in my trunk, oh no!!!! Then I relaxed, realizing I still had my Mud-in-yer-Eye April Fool's dance kazoo in the side pocket of the chair. Before I could relax entirely, I had the horrific realization that I'd left the car keys hooked into the tote bag - in the trunk of the car. I went bolting out of the tent and scared up a park ranger to deal with the problem while there was still daylight. I fruitlessly looked into my wee purse, but I knew the keys weren't there. Bless those Park Rangers - they'd have a great career in car theft - he had the window shimmied and my car open with no scratch or dent in about 3 minutes. I got back to the main stage audience in goodly time to see the bulk of the Fez Monkeys' set and get up and be part of the festival pick up band. Grand fun. I know there was video recording of it all, but no idea where those recordings go.

It was immensely gratifying to see that Mustard's Retreat are highly valued and frequent visitors to the Columbus Area. Here, they'd performed their first show in my living room back in the late 80s, had a couple other shows, but nowhere NEAR the repeat audience who can sing along on all their songs. Life hasn't been easy for David in the last decade or so, and seeing such a solid fan base there pleased me to no end. Their group of friends in the Yellow Room Gang reflected the same kind of joy, intelligence, wonderful musicianship and incredible wordsmithing that I'd come to love of David and Michael - what a joy to see!

James Keelahagn - I wouldn't have recognized on the street unless I heard his voice, it's been so long. He'd recently returned from a trip to Australia, in particular a section that had been devastated last year by fires. He talked about the resonance of his song "Cold Missouri Waters" to the experiences of friends there in losing their houses to fires flashing through in moments. His story songs continue to be brilliant points of light on his chosen topic. I brought his "House of Cards" album home along with a couple Mustard's Retreat albums they'd produced since I saw them last.

Saturday night retreating to a WARM hotel room and HOT shower was extraordinarily welcome. Sunday dawned warmer & as the day went on, warmer still. I was able to wear not so many layers, and even shed some, though it never got all THAT warm. I had a chance to spend time with some of the performers who were known to me. Bill Schilling was giving a workshop most of the time, from what I could gather - some of it filling in for some no-shows. I sat in on his Bowed Psaltery workshop. I was intrigued by a man who'd built his himself from plans he "found online" as a sort of warm up exercise to building himself a hammer dulcimer. His psaltery range was from C to C- which I'd never seen before. I had a good case of WANT. I've still got the plans for my alto psaltery - wonder how hard it'd be to do another one with a change of range? Marge Diamond was being her cheerful dulcimer playing self. I was most surprised by a trio made up of folks from the Akron/Kent area I've known for years - but not as a trio. Ed Bray and his wife Elaine joined up with (known mostly as a bass player) Barb Withee. All three of them multi instrumentalists, and all three doing vocals. I don't know that I've ever heard Barb sing like that before, and I was delighted. I was fond of the repertoire they were performing and hope to get a chance to sing with them later this year. Their set was the last thing I was able to attend. Matt Watroba was leading a song circle till later in the day, but I had to head home for a band rehearsal Sunday night - going directly from festival to rehearsal.

It was peculiar to be at a festival where I had no job/responsibility & could roam freely and only have to worry about getting to what I wanted to see on time. Of the dozens of festivals I've been at, I think this was perhaps only the third or fourth time that'd been the case. I was surpised at how much I didn't miss the responsibilty part, possibly because it was a new-to-me venue. Or, it's one more sign of leading a very different sort of life in this decade.