Mark Evans

One of Lloyd's curly masterpieces could have been lurkin' therein, no doubt. Jerry (guitarist ) had been "courting" the fellow for a long time regarding the D-28 (which can be seen in the Shady Grove poster). I was brought along to play a few tunes and make conversation (a transaction of that sort would not be rushed). Cal (I leave his name thus) was mildly amused by my concertina playing but very interested by my banjo stylings. Him pulling out the RB-17 was a total suprise. Jerry knew he had it but had no idea he would show it to me, let me play it or offer it to me. It was offered as one musician to another with the caveat that I should play it (my beloved Wheatstone was handled in a similar fashion)...unfortunately life got involved and I handled their departure from my life poorly. "Life is what happens while yer makin' other plans."

Beautiful. I thought your Stealth box might have been that small as well.

Lad, ya been very busy! Try out Session tunes on the web. Some great stuff. Can't imagine they don't have Foggy Dew and Galway Races.

Lovely collection Henrick. I really like the one with the deaf cat, for it reminded on a cat I had..Thank you.

Oh yes Stephen, I was eaten up with stupid. RB-17 top tension, all original right down to the amber buttoned tuners. Never even had a fret job. Most of the gold plating was warn off (really loved the exposed brass) and it was a very odd purple stained sunburst. The top tension Gibson didn't have the bite of a Granada or RB 4, but it had tone and warmth. The old fellow who sold it to me also had a D-28 Herringbone of the same year (1936) and the guitar player of Shady Grove (who was an instrument dealer) bought that one. One the way home his hands were shaking, my hands were shaking and we were grinnin'.

Am in a silly mood today, perhaps because I watched television last night. There was a repugnant program, "When Good Pets Go Bad". Somehow it seemed to me there was a correlation with this topic and no...strong spirits were not involved. A vision of myself as an overweight corgi foaming at the mouth trying to play the concertina reel on my EC .

Have just googled Mr. Dipper (still don't sound right). The unpleasantness is now not listed in the first three pages (cared not to look further). There are numerous other C. Net listing however, all rightly glowing (some from before our present forum format). Seems Google is not a static engine.

Question for Bodhrani (I rather like that too): When did folks start using the tuneable heads? Back in the day, I don't recall ever running into a member of your clan sportin' such a technical beastie. Fair enough I was mostly in an "altered state" but was payin' attention...honest! In these parts it seems to be the rule rather than the exception.

Great photos Tom. Loved that old fella with the duet and the looks passing between him and the young lady. That dear singin' and playin' a baritone come a close second. Thanks

Bodhran on a stick on steroids! I was fortunate to own a Gibson top tension with original 5 string neck (1936). While not as accepted as the bluegrass motherload standard Granada, it was a beautiful banjo (if you like Art Deco) with a deep-throated tone. Graduate school and the arrogance of a young singer caused me to sell my 1921 Wheatstone Aeola (the Stone) and the Gibson. The foolishness of youth. The Stone hurt my soul more over the years by it's absence, but the Gibson... Thought I got a good price at the time (didn't), but today the prices! Obscene. I'd be able to settle my growing lust for concertinas were I to have it in me mitts today. Well, had Earl played the Tubaphone we'd live in a gentler bluegrass world. Today banjo players out number all other bluegrass instrumentalist 10-1. The focus seems to be just about volume. Walking into a jam and seeing 6 or 7 cats all bangin' the bejeezus out of these weapons is a daunting sight. I sometimes feel like Rip Van Winkle who after being asleep for 20 years wakes to find himself in Bluegrass Hell . Salva me!

Complicated this. It's on my mind all the time. When they were younger me little tribe would sing with me. The approach of the teenage years and BOOM, it's all over. They don't want anything to do with Mom's music (Classical, Baroque). I'm tolerated with the concertina playing (for the present). They have gone to a seissun with me (I think the fish an' chips plus chocolate cake then board games kept them occupied plus the stories I told them about the ghost that haunts the tavern). I've even caught my Claude humming a tune er' two...and he bought a bodhran when last in Ireland with mom. The bluegrass...man! We took in a jam session (super jam...insanity on earth). They freaked out on me. I had to run for the door with them as they spit out invective resembling vampires when faced with garlic or a crucifix. My treasures come from a family well stocked with crackers, but they...ain't. Both are very musical and I listen and discuss (positively) their music even though inside it is now my turn to be the vampire. We travel down the road, I listening to my music on the car sound system, they each with their own CD players listening to....well, music. I've overheard them talking about mom and dad with chums. They love to relate stories about our musical lives...proudly, but to our faces...alas. Perhaps once my darlin' and I are safely under the sod, they'll look back with affection on our passion, musical and otherwise.

Ah Helen, it begins! Now come on, throw back your arms, take a good deep breath down to yer toes and let it fly...."the hills are alive with the sound of music..." Oh yeah!

Welcome Jeff, fellow banjoist? (there is now medication for that) Stephen, unfortunately Jeff is correct. The bluegrass banjo has developed into a behemoth (oh, I rather like that). A common ancestor is at fault...the Jazz tenor banjo from which the behemoth was scavenged during the 1930's when down on their luck Jazz musicians pawned these instruments. A number of fellers like Earl Scruggs (actually quite an artist) got ahold of them at the right or wrong time (depending on one's point of view) and a plague was released on the face of the earth. My dear Sunflower is a weapon and I don't trust her alone with Tina. They live across the room from one another and Sunflower rides to gigs in the (translation for UK) boot, while Tina rides in the passenger's seat secured by an adjustable strap. Jeff, welcome to a lovely world. I think you will be suprised by all the different types of music played on our magical instrument and by the unique minds that have gathered around this site. A bodhran player? Kinda like a bluegrass ba....well you know .

AN UNFORGIVABLE EMBARASSMENT TO ALAN My foolish attempt at humor has caused pain to a very kind, strong and thoughful person in this community. It is particularly horrific in that he has contacted me off net on a number of occations and been very kind and wise and I had been deeply honored to have him refer to me as "friend". I apologize to this community and have done so to Alan. It's time for me to do some thinking and shut my yap for I fear my posts in this matter have thrown a pall over this lovely refuge. I had always felt somehow alone until stumbling apon it and it is now time for me to withdraw and reflect on that.

Al, I am so sorry. It must have been very difficult to bear. Forgive me. When I was a little boy (not so little I guess) I resembled the roly-poly kid Spanky from Spanky and Our Gang. My nickname was Spanky. "Hey Spanky, where's yer beenie!" That plus carryin' a squeeze box around brought a lot of unwanted attention. Again, sorry ! Spanky

If it speaks to you, it won't matter how difficult you find the little box in the beginning. The virus will take hold. My dad brought my brother home a German 20 button from a European trip when I was 10. Brother "honked" on it once and rolled it across the floor. I picked it up and fell in love. Have had an embarassing attraction to red pearloid ever since. Pick it up an' have a go!

Thank you Samantha. That along with bubble and squeek? sounds like rather substantial faire for a hurried midday meal in the Grace Brother's Dinning Room. No wonder Mrs. Slocombe had concerns about "gettin' me wind up." Beats our gastromomic horror Mc Sh*#t's!

I'm wid you on the chocolate Helen. I snuck off yesterday an' bought a toe sack full of all kinda Lindt chocolate. Up at 4 this morning an' piled the table high. Along with hand painted cards for each member of my family 'ceptin Obi 'cause he's showed no signs of bein' able to read (no chocolate for him either, but several petit beurre cookies and a very nice walk). There has been feasting on this drug chocolate all day by the look of decimated remains atop the table. Flushed faces, grins and general bouncing off the walls! Huzzah! I've done it yet again.

Thank you Stephen. I was more than a little upset that I couldn't remember Mrs Slocombe's name...and of course Capt. Peacock. Many an evening I've laughed so hard I couldn't breath watching that sitcom. It's all coming back....Mr. Humphrys, are your free? Yes, I'll free. What really fun actors and they made you really care about them (least I did). Gonna get slapped for this but I have to know after all these years.....What in the name of Jove is Toad in the Hole?

Whew! Glad that got cleared up. I used to watch re-runs of "Are You Being Served", the older lady (what a chick) was refered to once as an "old trout" in a moment of pique by Capitan (forget now), the floor walker. She didn't think kindly of it as I recall. Set me way down the wrong road when I saw the term in question. Guess I'd best leave the slaggin' to those who know what they're doing. Think I'll lie down now before I hurt myself thinkin'.

Sorry folks. Didn't mean to be disrepectful. Over here political correctness has dictated that we no longer use terms that could freak someone out as far as religion goes: Christmas, is now the Holidays, poor ole Valentine has most certainly lost his sainthood and is now somethin' else altogether. The list goes on and on and on... After being corrected several times about "pejorative religious terminology" by colleagues here at the job site, I (like most Americans) puts me head down an' say mostly nuthin'. Don't want to ruin the thread for it was offered in a moment of euphoria early this morning. Let me re-phrase...I give my wishes for love and contentment to this group of people who are now very important to me while we still abide on the right side o' the grass!

Happy Valentine's Day all you C. Net squeezers! Am going to play "Won't You Be My Funny Valentine" now! Feeling very grateful this morning to have such a place to reach out to others addicted to these wonderful insturments...astounding!

Tickle yer' Trout? Can I use that in the same sentence as "slagg off"? Help a poor cracker out here!

Yes, the thearputic value would be very good and given the location you suggest, safer. Beats lettin' it go in the house for me dearest don't hold wid' good honest cussin' an' the dog gets very low ta the ground an' scrams. The kids now delighted, use the words right away and say "but daddy says it!" Me dearest advances an' it's now my turn ta' get low ta' the ground an' scram .

Sing Helen, sing! 'Trow yer head back an' let loose! Be done wid' it! Nothin' on this earth feels quite as good...well wid' certian exceptions . Let's be careful about the children thing. I'm blessed and they are the center of my life...but this teenage thing....I'm being paid back by the truckload everything I did ta mom and dad. Im sure they look down an' laugh.