Kerrville Folk Festival, a Different Time in Space, 2007

Kerrville Folk Festival, a Different Time in Space, 2007
A year ago I stumbled on this place, Home. Now Kerr-vered, I fly into Tejas on a red eye out of Portland Town, now a year later, not on the road traveling, but working, time is short this time.
I fly in to Odessa airport on a Sunday morning at 8am, not much sleep, happy to be in Tejas, happy to see Renee, we meet in Kerrville last year, shared a friendship at camp, we talked for three months as I completed my journey, then got together in Las Vegas after my loop. Then off on our own side trip around the Southwest camping, making love, falling in love, you know the rest.
On Monday we head to Kerrville to set-up camp, she has a working gig in San Antonio the next day, I spend time catching up with friends, eating BBQ in a trailer as its raining, and the big show starts on Thursday.
It’s been rainy this year in Tejas, last year we had 100+ degree heat the whole festival.
The sprit of the camp is growing slowly each day, people arriving every moment, hugs, laughter, time to catch up with the all of life. “Welcome Home”
Thursday night the first night of the festival the McKay Brothers open, they are from Bandera, just down the road, two handsome Texas boys, with songs about pick-ups, beer & girls, fun, then Thad Beckman from Portland town, wonderful blues, it is a blessing to have him up here in Oregon, then Ian Moore from Vashon Island, where all the freaks live a short ferry ride out of Seattle, then the Austin Lounge Lizards doing their classics, during the show, I am told by my friend that she knows two of the members quite well, over time we all have known someone else better than well, history, it’s all good, then the treat of the first night is James Hand, a shy real country cowboy, swiveling hips, a proud guitar, sad lyrics from lonesome cowboy, a real hoot!
That night it starts raining right after the show and continues, we wake to our road in front of our tent, it’s now a small river now, after coffee and breakfast, well it’s already time for beer and a need to divert water, shoveling a good half a day to save our camp, the camp is in good sprit, although the main stage is not suitable for the big show, we are all to busy to notice, so later in the day the word gets out 9pm at Threadgill, under cover, newly terraced, it's really nice, we are in for a magical night, the sprit of the festival prevails, that night The Laws from Ontario, then Tracy Grammer was a delight, on to Michael Smith, intelligent words, a gifted song writer, a great mind f**k for some lucky lady, topping the night a Band of Heathens out of Austin town.
Saturday, the rain continues, we are back at Threadgill for the New Folk contest, Rana Rose from Portland/ Austin signs a song about Oregon, then Anthony da Costa, 13 years young, a force to be reckoned with, 16 singers each day, only six chosen.
The New Folk Contest is the core of this place to me, were ones words are there for all to hear, we listen, no judgment, just a great respect to these songwriters.
Saturday night back at the main stage, Cory Sheridan from Moab, Peter Yarrow from Peter, Paul & Mary, he is one of the people that keep this thing going, topping the night Jimmy LaFave, we all dance to a beautiful night of music.
Its tequila night for me, eight shots of Patron, Renee and I wander around the camp listening to songs around campfires, we make it to the Crow’s Nest where Brian Cutean of Oregon holds camp, high above the camp, of a ledge, and folks pass the guitar and share their songs.
I slide off a truck sideways, it’s easy to go downhill for me after that.
Later that night the rains start again, 5 inches in a couple of hours, we survive, yet it’s time to divert water again, just inches from our tent, we are in a good spot which is now river front property, a good time to drink coffee then smoke cigars & beers under our canopy, as the clouds lift, a double rainbow appears, a rubber gator flows down a the new river, a man with a boogey board rides the waves, we make our own high water gauge, it has bewildered me that here in Tejas they have a pole marked from one foot to five feet, why would anyone try over two feet, they do and they float away.
As we recover from two more down pours, our campfire is flooded, as well as many tents with belongings, sleeping in or/on wet bedding is not comforting, Renee & I did well, only some papers get wet, the tent and placement (Renee) also get a pat on the back.
Sunday back to Threadgill for the New Folk in the afternoon, then back in the evening for an extremely fun couple in Small Potatoes, they have fun with you and their music, then Sara Hickman, a Texas legend in the making, then Steve James from Austin as well, then the great voice of Vance Gilbert, A.J. Croce can flat play piano, and to close the show on this wet wonderful day, the Hudsons.
I did not get to as many campfires this year, between the weather and the shorter stay, only the first big weekend for me, I know now that this is only the beginning, during the week things settle down, but the music keeps a-coming, for me only one more day & night.
Monday it’s our time to cook, last year I cooked cedar-plank wild salmon over the open campfire, as well as grilled asparagus, balsamic mushrooms and proscuitto wrapped prawns, and pesto corn on the cob, so this year with Renee as my assistant, we go for the prawns again, getting the prawns in ice as a prepare our meal outside, accomped with tomato (ripe tomatoes in may in this state), fresh mozzarella and basil, we do well, each night someone cooks a fabulous meal, Sally and Steve with whole fired grilled beef tenderloin, Grant & Greg (not a couple) with Steaks, Wes & Mary with Lasagna, all this with mud between our toes. Don & Freda’s Fish fry is canceled on the first Saturday because of as well.
We make it happen, although I miss the Blues Project with Thad Beckman, Stefan George and Gary Primich, o’ well, we do get to go back to the main stage for a beautiful evening concert of singer-song writers, all past new folk winners: opening is one of my favs Diana Jones, she has found her home and voice, she seems more relaxed after having won last years New Folk, and my view, she may have found someone, then Jonathan Byrd from North Carolina, I enjoy his songs, words and southern voice, has well as has politics, later in the week is BYRDJONES both Jonathan and Diana together, I won’t be here, back to the evening Amilia K. Spicer, a darling of this festival, John Gorka, the singer-songwriters songwriter, o my god, voice and words, excellent, then topping off a magical night Susan Werner with her piano.
We sit in the front row on the end, in the same spot as last year, only this year Renee & I are a couple.
We go campfire hopping on our last night in camp, many excellent players, the topper was a woman singing a song to her husband, a non profession that got everyone singing and smiling, these moments continue, endure and enlighten though out the whole festival, come high water, 100+ degree heat, fire ants, wild pigs, and what ever our God will throw at us. Family.
The next morning Tuesday, we prepare Eggs Benedict for all, a good kick off to travel back to Odessa with Renee for a couple of relaxing days and nights before heading back to Portland and a job.
We did stop at Cooper's BBQ in Junction for some great BBQ coming and going to the Festival.
Writing this, I have sad news Berk Snow died in a plane crash, his partner Suzanne survived, I had meet them many years ago though an old partner, only to see them at last years Folk Festival, seeing them again, we had the privedge to drive them to the airport, they had flown his 1958 Cessna from Northern California to the Festival, not knowing this would be the last time they would fly over Kerrville.
He would come to the festival to listen to music, find folks for his radio show at KMUD in Garberville.
More about this: www.kmud.org
Fly away my brother, I will always think of you flying over camp, waving at us from above on golden wings.