So, yes . . . the show in Basin, Montana, was a blast. I love tiny towns where all sorts of people come out of the mountain crevices and old mining camps to congregate for live music. There were back-to-the-landers in their mid-twenties, older cowhands who knew the cowboy poems better than I did, and lesbian artists who liked my songs in spite of a few sexist overtones. I left the show with a couple hundred bucks in my pocket and a kerosene lamp that my aunt/godmom Bryher gave me as a house-warming present. Bryher owns the High Note Espresso & Art Gallery where I played. She's a coffee-bean-grinding saint who makes killer plum cobbler.
Yesterday the folks and I traversed 750 miles of Montana on Highway 200. I fell in love with my home state all over again.
A Nashville paper somehow picked up on the Country Music & Cowboy Poetry Gathering that I've organized for this Saturday and put it on their website. (They got the date wrong, though.) They included a picture of one of Saturday's performers, Quintana Biffert. Check out her songs if you get a chance. She's got a loud voice for a 13-year-old.
1 comment:
Hey, thought I might rattle your cage with a voice from the past. I'm back in Montana (again) thought I might stick around this time since I managed to come back without having my tail tucked between my legs this time. I have two kids (with me) and I'm working in missoula as a crane operator. I've been seeing an old pal of yours, Tracy Morigeau. And it was she that brought up your name. I was surprised to see that you had cowboy'd up. amazing, the roads we take and the directions they lead us. Drop me a line, I'm at Andersen460@yahoo.com
----Shane A. Andersen....
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