Here's a picture Dad took yesterday. I'm blowin' harmonica during the song "Saddle Bum."
"They call me scum, the saddle bum, ever since the day
I quit the strife of cowboy life out to travel, sing, and play . . ."
That about sums it up. I felt like a fraud performing on the same stage as all these working ranchers and farmers, but the crowd liked me, and I guess that's what counts.
I appreciated my free stay at the Badlands Motel and getting "featured" status--this means they wrote up a little blurb on me in their program--and I heard some great recitations from masters like Georgie Sicking and Rodney Nelson.
And I'm relieved it's over. Now I can concentrate on the myriad of Dunn County Museum events that I'm organizing this summer.
1 comment:
yer not a fraud. yer just yer own breed.
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