Banjo

So, it’s the eve of New Year’s Eve.  I’m just getting ready to dust off a Dock Boggs record (literally: I listen to that old vinyl stuff, and I clean it off with a solution before spinning it), when the phone rings.  It’s a banjo student.  With a banjo emergency. 

He broke a string during one of those endless attempts to get a banjo into a tuning that fits the song/tune you’re wanting to play.  Events unfold: a bridge is broken; a bridge is replaced; a banjo is re-tuned.  And according to the player’s handy electronic tuner, he’s got it ready to play.  And yet, it just don’t sound right. 

The bat signal goes up (via the cell phone), I respond.  He plinks his strings on one end of the line; I plink my strings on the other.  The diagnosis: B and high D strings are an octave too low.  Treatment:  Close you eyes, turn your face away and wrench those suckers up to where they belong.

And it works. 

Andy, my student, is a real tackler of problems; he’s not one to sit back and wait around for something or someone to fix a problem he’s run into.  His banjo broke, and he went about to fixing it.  I applaud his spirit, and am thankful for being able to help him tackle it.

Have you ever felt as if you had fewer opportunities to help others as you wish you had?  I’ve felt that way.  So when I get a call in the night, and can lend someone a hand in some small way, I’m grateful.

Thanks for calling, Andy!

In other news (kind of):

Christie rolls back into Chattanooga today after a long spell on the West Coast.  The folk/old-time community has missed her.  What was she doing out West?  Chasing the warm weather?  Playing High-Priced Gigs?  Whooping it up?

Nope: she went out to help someone out.

Welcome back!