Was a pleasure to play for nice folks again yesterday. It’s a neighbourhood gathering which has become a small jewel of a festival. I love the fact that they limit attendance in quite a sensible manner–you use the bathroom of whoever invited you. No portables. Kind of solves that issue, doesn’t it?
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I was asked several times whether I’d been at the first one. Apparently in some people’s minds I have become a fixture. No, I’m quite sure I wasn’t at the first one. But it is nice to have been often enough that they look forward to seeing me again. One of the reasons being in this town is such a different experience for me.
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Being at Chequenat always reminds me of why I used to call myself a folk-musician. People who make money at such things have gutted the social significance from that whole scene and turned folk into nothing but a minor-league version of what they think of as ‘real music’ (meaning pop and country). I watched it happen, and not a darned thing I could do about it. They sort of finished off the process that Pete Seeger talked about, where we lost what he called our ‘local heroes’. Of course, those people making money at such things are doing much better now, thank you very much, although the musicians tell me it’s harder to make a living than it used to be. So, no I wouldn’t thank you to call me a folkie now. But nice to have this gentle reminder of what it used to be all about.
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I had forgotten that I had these pictures from several years ago on my old site. There’s a big clock that sits beside the stage. When I first saw it I remember it seemed huge. Somehow over the years it’s gotten smaller. Sort of like what happened to your grade school hallways. Not sure why, but there it is.
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Next year will be their 10th. And no temptation to succumb to the bigger is better disease. Good going. I used to think this was part of our future. Of course I’ve had it explained to me more than once how I was deeply mistaken. Nice to see these folks have got it right.