Day 4: Music Row's Quonset Hut Studio and Studio B

After visiting Spring Hill Cemetery in Nashville, my friend Kevin Paulk and I went to Music Row to get a look at some country music historical artifacts that were not tied to the dead! Kevin once worked as a volunteer tour guide for the Country Music Foundation and knows the background of the historic Quonset Hut studio used by Owen Bradley, as well as the nearby Studio B that was set up by RCA Victor after the success of the quonset hut. Here's a cool picture of the mixing board in the old quonset hut studio.

The slicker, more sophisticated country-pop produced by Bradley at the quonset hut is not my favorite music. I'd rather listen to the rawer, more rootsy sound of honky-tonk from the 50s and early 60s. But there's no denying the historical impact of the sound that Owen Bradley and Chet Atkins brewed on Music Row in the 1960s.

Here's a video of Kevin and me talking about the quonset hut studio:



And here's a video of Kevin and me talking about Studio B:

Song of the Day: 'Dropkick Me Jesus (Through the Goalposts of Life)'

I've finally finished the trip and am in Arlington, Texas, hanging out with my cat Jackson, my sister Wanda, and my daughter Emily. Today's agenda will include adding the videos and photos from the last days of the trip. And watching football, because this is opening weekend of college football season!

In honor of football season, here's the best gospel football song ever: Bobby Bare singing "Dropkick Me Jesus (Through the Goalposts of Life)." This song rests squarely in a very old tradition of using artifacts of the current culture as metaphors for the Christian journey. Other songs in this tradition: The Carter Family's "There'll Be No Depression in Heaven" and the Louvin Brothers "Great Atomic Power."

Song of the Day: 'The Road Goes On Forever'

I've learned this week that the road does indeed go on forever! But seriously, this is one of Robert Earl Keen's most well-known songs, covered by a handful of other artists including Joe Ely and the Highwaymen (Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, Kris Kristofferson). "The Road Goes On Forever" is a ballad in the truest sense of the word, a story that grabs you at the beginning ("Sherry was a waitress at the only joint in town") and keeps you listening to the end.

Back when "The Road Goes on Forever" first came out in the early 1989, Robert Earl Keen wasn't as big a name as he is now and could still be seen in relatively small venues throughout Texas. In Dallas two guys named Boone and Little John (Little John was about 6'5", of course) came up with set of hand motions to act out this song, almost a pantomime of it. The effect was hilarious, and for awhile, whenever Keen played in Dallas at places like the Sons of Hermann Hall or the Three Teardrops Tavern (sadly, gone now), he got Boone and Little John up on stage to do their shtick. I wish someone had made video of that.

So this song is for the last day of a very long trip that will find me in Dallas by the end of the day, where I'll be for the next week. I'll have to get over to the Sons sometime this week, if only for old times' sake.

Song of the Day: 'Born to Fly'

As I am posting this, it is early in Day 6 of this road trip (the blog is about two days behind -- it takes a long time to upload all that video!). I knew when I planned this trip that it would get tough and I would get tired, and it is and I have. I decided before I even left Boston that I would designate a song that would be the one I played in the car at the start of every day to get me going. It would be high-energy and on a positive theme, to counteract any sadness or exhaustion I was feeling. The song I picked was Sara Evans' "Born to Fly."

My classic country and bluegrass-loving friends may scoff at this choice, but songs like this are the reason I think that songs, not albums or genres, are the point. I've felt this way for years, and certainly the entire music business is now trending this way. You can be bored by a genre and unmoved by an album, but point to one specific song and say, "hell yeah!". This is such a song for me.

I would actually call "Born to Fly" a pop song with a semi-twangy vocal delivery and some serious picking overlying the pop beat. "Born to Fly" was one of Sara Evans' first huge hits in the early 2000s, written by her with Marcus Hummun and the great Darrell Scott. One of the things I like most about it and chose it for my trip kickoff song is that it starts with a kick-ass drum solo done almost in marching band style. Then of course there are the virtuoso Jerry Douglas dobro riffs and Aubrey Haynie (I think) on fiddle. I knew without even looking it up that that was Jerry Douglas. No one else could play that many notes that fast on a dobro!

Sara Evans, "Born to Fly" (at last.fm)

Day 4: Spring Hill Cemetery, Nashville

The first day I was in Nashville I connected with Kevin Paulk (left), with whom I worked 13 years ago on the copy desk of the Nashville Tennesseean (Kevin's recently been laid off from the Tennessean -- see his resume here). Kevin's an expert on old country and bluegrass (see his blog 3 Chords a Day here), and we used to pass slow moments at work chatting on those subjects. He joined me for a visit to Nashville's Spring Hill Cemetery, where lots of country and bluegrass stars have been laid to rest. We also went to Nashville's Old City Cemetery, which is the resting place of some of Nashville's founders, war heroes, statesmen -- and songwriting great Harlan Howard.

Kevin also sent me a link to a story that ran in the Tennessean in January 2008 that takes a little tour through some of the Nashville cemeteries where stars are buried. It's definitely worth looking at if you have any interest in this area.

All the video I shot at Spring Hill and at Old City Cemetery feature both Kevin and myself talking. I'll try to add them in rough order of how we went that day (to the extent that I can remember the order!).

Roy Acuff, Singer and Grand Ole Opry pioneer:



Hank Snow, singer:



Jimmy Martin, bluegrass singer, bandleader, guitar player:



George Morgan: singer:



Keith Whitley, singer:



Pete Drake, pedal steel guitar player who brought the "talk box" to Peter Frampton:



John Hartford, songwriter, singer and banjo player:



Floyd Cramer, songwriter and piano player:



Louise Scruggs, wife of banjo player Earl Scruggs and manager of Flat & Scruggs and the Earl Scruggs Revue:



Harlan Howard, songwriter UPDATE: My friend Kevin found out why Harlan Howard is buried along with the Civil War heroes and Tennessee and Nashville founders in the Old City Cemetery -- "A lifetime student of the Civil War, it was a dream of Harlan’s to be buried close to General Zollecoffer, the first general killed in the Civil War. Thanks to the generosity of the General’s descendents, a tombstone is [has been] being erected in the family plot."

Song of the Day: 'Looking at the World Through a Windshield'

This isn't so much a commentary on my current vacation -- even though I've put just upwards of 1600 miles on my car in four days. It's about truck stops. I've seen a fair number in the last few days, and they are nowhere near as interesting as the truck stops of my past.

Back in the days before ubiquitous fast food at every interstate exit, truck stops were often the only place you could get food. In the daytime a truck stop was full of truckers and, if it was nice enough, families too. None were chains, and they all had full-service restaurants. Sometimes the food was quite good. I have fond memories of biscuits at Earl's Hot Biscuit, which was located in a truck stop on I-40 in West Memphis, Arkansas. At night it was a different story. Strange people could be found at truck stops at night. Not usually dangerous, just strange.

Tomorrow I am going to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, where I lived for three years while attending the University of Alabama. At the time my dad was playing guitar and pedal steel with a traveling band that played one-night "Salute to Elvis Presley" shows at National Guard armories and high school gyms throughout the South.

Whenever Dad would be passing through Tuscaloosa, he would call me and I would go out to the truck stop just south of town and sit there and drink coffee and visit with him and his decidedly odd bandmates. These calls inevitably came in the middle of the night -- of course, that's when they were traveling -- and more than one guy I dated in college was alarmed by the idea that I expected him to drop me off at my apartment at midnight and that I would then drive on my own out to a truck stop and hang around there all night, even if I was going to be with my dad.

Now many years later, that truck stop is gone and last time I was there, in its place is a chain truck stop that has none of the charms -- both real and dubious -- of its predecessor. I doubt I'll even stop when I pass by tomorrow.

So, in honor of my current road trip and my truck-stop history, here's former Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen guitarist Bill Kirchen doing "Looking at the World Through a Windshield":

Day 3: Wytheville, Virginia, to Nashville, Tennessee

So it turns out that the Carter Family -- at least, AP and Sara -- are pretty much as off-the-beaten-path in death as they ever were in life. And the state of Virginia does not do the traveler many favors in finding them.

I started out the day on the Crooked Trail, which is a route marked through the twisty mountain roads of far southwestern Virginia, linking early recording centers such as Galax and Bristol with the Carter Family Fold and the Stanley homeplace. It's a nice idea, but it would take an entire day to drive it. I started out driving from Wytheville down I-77 to Galax and then picked up the trail. Pretty soon I was way back in the mountains, out of cell phone range and even out of XM radio range at times. And the road was like a carnival ride. (Side note: Still loving my car, though this route would have been way more fun if I didn't have the boxes from my move sloshing about in the back on the hairpin turns.)

After two hours I stopped to eat in Damascus, which is also a center for outdoor recreation (mountain biking, river rafting). Then I took a less circuitous route to Bristol, where I intended to visit the Birthplace of Country Music Museum -- until I discovered it was in a mall! Really, State of Virginia?!! I went on out into the country looking for the Carter Family. No state signs point the way out of Bristol toward these gravesites.

I got turned around a couple of times, but found my way to the Carter Family Fold, which is a theater and site of the restored Carter store and AP Carter's boyhood cabin, none of which was actually open. I did take some video:

AP Carter's Restored Boyhood Cabin:



AP Carter's General Store:



I had researched the gravesites and knew they were at the Mount Vernon United Methodist Church, though I wasn't sure where that was. By a combination of GPS, iPhone, and luck, I found it up the road a bit. It's a really lovely site, with a small church that appears to be still in use, a little cemetery behind it, and a beautiful mountain view. Here's the video I took at the gravesites:



I had intended to go see Carter Stanley as well, but it was already close to 3 pm and I had a six-hour drive to Nashville ahead of me. I decided I should save Carter since Ralph Stanley is still alive. Truthfully, I'd love to come back sometime.

So I came down out of the mountains and had a nice meal at the Cracker Barrel in Morristown, Tennessee. I love Cracker Barrel -- turnip greens, cornbread, biscuits, breakfast all day. I also love their kitschy stores, even though they are getting much more predictable. This one, for instance, had the requisite local college football merchandise.

Then it was on to Nashville!

Day 2: Winchester to Wytheville, Virginia

I was thrilled to be traveling in the mountains today. The wether was perfect for it. I had never traveled I-81 north of Roanoke, and the panoramic mountain view is terrific. There are not many places I've traveled where you can see mountains on either side and ahead of you.

I looked in vain for the home of a friend of my daughter to have lunch with her, but she lives far back in the country and I ran out of cell phone signal before we connected. It was fun to run those backroads though. I am still in love with my new car, a 2009 Hyundai Elantra Touring.

Here are some videos of the trip in general today:



OK, I promise not to take any more videos in the car at 80 mph. But it was fun:



And, all you need is highway, truck stop, mountains, hotel:

Lynchburg, Virginia: Don Reno

I'm pretty sure that my commentary on these video clips doesn't really do justice to Don Reno. He was an extremely versatile entertainer -- a killer banjo player who pioneered an entire style of playing, a fearsome rhythm guitar player, a great singer, an excellent songwriter, a decent comedian (comedy was a highlight of the Reno and Smiley band). Reno died too young. He should be around still, jamming with Earl Scruggs.

Winchester, Virginia: Patsy Cline's Memorial

So I ran into a guy at a welcome center in Harrisonburg, Virginia, who said that the *real* story about Patsy Cline is that she was raised by her grandparents in rural Elkton, Virginia, and wasn't really from Winchester (which is slightly less rural). I didn't find that out, though, until after I had visited Patsy Cline's memorial in Shenandoah Memorial Park in Winchester. Below are the videos I made.

I have to admit, I was moved to sing a few soft bars of "I Fall to Pieces" while I was out there, and as soon as I started singing, a small flock of ducks at the pond commenced to quacking. Whenever I quit singing, they quit quacking. Coincidence? You decide.

Song of the Day: 'West Virginia My Home'

Last January I had been in Boston for two months, didn't really know anyone much except my co-workers, was trying to wrap my mind around my impending divorce, and was shocked to realize that the winter sun sets at about 4 pm in Boston. Plus the temperature did not get above 20 degrees, even in the daytime, for about a three-week stretch.

The last Saturday of January I packed up the cheap Yamaha guitar I had bought to play while my Martin was being repaired after its fateful brush with Southwest Airlines baggage handlers and went out to the Stagecoach Inn in Groton, Mass., for the monthly Boston Bluegrass Union jam. I knew absolutely no one there. By the end of the night, a young fiddle player asked me if I knew the song "West Virginia My Home" and I said I knew of it, loved it, and had never tried to sing it. I promised her I would learn it before the next jam, and I did. Whenever I sang the words "Well, I've paid the price for the leaving/and this life I have's not one I thought I'd find" I was singing my own life right then, even if my home was Texas and not West Virginia.

"West Virginia" was written and sung by Hazel Dickens, a woman with a powerful, direct delivery and by her own admission, a casual relationship with pitch. In a great Washington Post story from 1996, Dickens told writer Richard Harrington, "Oh, I never hit the right pitch. I go for that feel, I go for the jugular. I can't even think about [the pitch]. When I'm singing, I'm thinking about the real things."

Yesterday I drove through a bit of West Virginia between Maryland and Virginia, and I thought about that song again. Here's a video clip of Dickens, then 73 years old, singing "West Virginia" at the 2008 Folk Alliance conference along with Ginny Hawker and Tracy Schwarz. And yes, that is Kathy Mattea, also a West Virginia native, who spontaneously comes up to add more harmony.

Day 1: Over the Mason Dixon Line

Got a late start due to the overall disengagement issue, but I did make it all the way to Winchester, Virginia, as planned. The day started gloomy and rainy, and stayed that way right up until about 4 pm and Pennsylvania. My GPS choked at a crucial moment when I was merging in a spaghetti-like interchange in New York City, and I ended up meandering around some run-down part of New Jersey until it was all synched up and I was back on route again.

So I've said that going back to Texas is about going home for me, although the truth is I have no actual home town, due to a majorly unstable childhood. In many ways my sense of "home" is tied up in old country music, especially honky-tonk, because that music was itself all there was of stability in my childhood, and in my mind also much of what there as of happy times -- playing music with my dad, talking about songs, listening to music.

Because of that and because there's someone in Massachusetts I'm not happy to be driving away from, I felt too sad to delve into country music today for all those hours in the car. Instead, I revisited the 70s and 80s via XM radio -- disco! new wave! dance music! -- the music of my teens and 20s. I needed the high energy too. I heard a Kasey Kasem top 40 countdown from Aug 31, 1975. On that date in the year when I was 16 and just starting what turned out to be my final year of high school (starting at Oswego High School in Oswego, Illinois, and ending at Springfield High School in Springfield, Tennessee), the #1 song was "Get Down Tonight" by KC and the Sunshine Band.

As Thelma Houston was whaling away on "Don't Leave Me This Way," I crossed from Pennsylvania into Maryland and saw to my amazement an actual highway sign for the Mason Dixon Line. Didn't know there was one, but I'm on the other side of it now than I was yesterday.

Disengaging

Probably we're none of us very good at disengaging from one thing, one place, one person, or one set of people. It doesn't feel good.

So this living in Massachusetts has been in no way a bad situation. I'm just not at home here, and I want to go home for awhile. I want to base myself at home and travel to here from there, and not vice versa. But, I like many things here in Massachusetts. In 10 months, I've developed routines, friends, places I like to go to, and things I like to do here.

However, in order to leave here I have to disengage from those things and those people. And even though I'm going to be coming back relatively soon, and returning to a routine of coming here once a month for a week or so at a time, I still have to disengage, right now, from the place and from people I've come to care about.

I know people who have a hard time disengaging from a conversation, much less a place and a set of people. I'm not that bad. But I've definitely passed out of my comfort level regarding the process of disengagement here.

In 12 hours, though, one way or another I'm going to be finished deciding what goes and what stays (because some stuff can stay and be shipped later). I'll stop putting stuff in the car, finish disengaging, and go.

The Big Trip

It started on Facebook.

I'm leaving Arlington, Massachusetts, where I've been living for almost a year, to return to Austin, Texas, via Arlington, Texas. I posted on Facebook that I was about to take an epic road trip by myself and wondered if friends had suggestions about potential routings and stops. A friend pointed out that her husband had once visited the graves of the Carter Family in southwest Virginia and the same day also visited Jimmie Rodgers' grave in Meridian, Mississippi. I didn't want to top that feat but it gave me a great idea -- visit the graves of pioneers of bluegrass and country music and post writing, audio, and video along the way. This blog will be the chronicle of the trip.

So it sounds like a great idea to me now, but it's a seven-day trip and we'll see how I feel long about Day 4!

I'm leaving the day after tomorrow, and I'm not quite ready.