For the first time in seven years I took an extended leave off the work of business. The phone calls, emails, and pushing papers and CD’s to the post office all evaporated from my mind. I took time off my routine of writing. Practicing my repertoire even fell off the radar. All things pertaining to work grew weak from disuse and drifted away. It was in the fullest sense, a vacation.

Of course I had to play some gigs to pay the bills. You might say it was a busman’s holiday, as my son, Sather, and partner, Susan and I drove across the country for a reunion with family in Oregon. We camped and visited people along the way, and you must understand, those concerts are not the work I’m talking about, they were joy.

We had time as we drove to feast our eyes on the wide-open spaces of the West. At the Rocky Mountain Folks Fest in Lyons, Colorado we mourned for Dave Carter, whooped it up during The Waifs rocking set, and laughed at Stacey Earle’s silliness.  We became adept at setting up camp after a days drive, and tearing it down in the morning. We made ritual of washing dishes from a Coleman stove supper with as little water as possible as the dark set in. There were many campfires and reading from The Hobbit to Sather before bedtime.

One thing from the trip, however, sticks in my craw. It’s the image of how RV’s seem to be taking over the planet. Since when did tent camping become known as, and demoted to the status of “primitive camping”? This phenomenon seems to have entered into all sectors of the camping industry as rarely did I see a sign for camping along the highways without a little picture of an RV on it.  It must be money that rules this obscenity as there is obviously more money to be made with electric hook-up’s. Often the tent sector of the campsite was relegated to a little used and out of the way portion of the park. Well, I didn’t want to pitch my tent next to a RV with a generator running powering a TV blaring in the middle of the old growth forest anyway!…..alright, enough of my rant.

Musically you might say I played more fiddle than anything else. Fiddling seemed like the appropriate pastime given the circumstances. Susan provided back up guitar, and other times we switched – she on fiddle and me on guitar. Time’s I forgot who was playing which, ‘specially after too many marshmallows and nips at the single malt. Anyhow, it gave campers with loud radios a startle. In general I was pleased to find that after a few minutes the radios went off as I intuited ears turned toward the sound of the live kind of music.

The overall feeling of August was a glimpse into a time before I knew exactly where I was going to be on what minute of what day of what month and what year.  The whole idea of vacation is a free flowing and open-to-anything willingness to discover in the moment. Not that all of life can’t be like that and often is, but it was good to get a reminder. I hope that all of you reading this has found a time like that recently or is setting aside time for that in the future.

Now that I’m back to work, typing away at my desk in Asheville, things are returning back to normal. Normal…that is trying to carve out the time to be creative!  Thanks again for the support and being an audience for my ramblings. September I’ll be mixing and mastering “Avenue of the Saints”.  I’ll keep you posted on its progress. Meanwhile, keep in tune, keep in touch, and don’t forget to brush.

Kindly    - Dana