Putamaya - World Music Series

For those not familiar with the Putumaya Series of World Music I should explain that this album is but one of many. There are Putumaya albums for virtually every type of music, and I have them all, courtesy of my local Public Library. As a matter of fact, these CD's represent world music in such a way that even the Mooresville Public Library, which does not have CD's, has these CD's. They are, literally, that valid, almost as much so as literature.

This album, "Americana", draws on every genre of American music, from the jazzy sound of Nora Roberts singing with The Little Willies, to the gospel sound of Terri Hendrix, all the sounds of American music are on display. The playlist may contain some names you have not heard before, such as The Little Willies, but these are the sounds that really drive the creativity of today's musicians.

1 Robinella • Down the Mountain

2 Mulehead • Frankie Lee

3 The Little Willies • It's Not You It's Me

4 Robert Earl Keen • Ride

5 Eliza Lynn • Sing a New Song

6 Old Crow Medicine Show • Wagon Wheel

7 Chip Taylor & Carrie Rodriguez • Sweet Tequila Blues

8 Tim O'Brien • House of the Risin' Sun

9 Alison Brown • Deep Gap

10 Terri Hendrix • Prayer for My Friends

11 Josh Ritter • Harrisburg

12 Ruthie Foster • Hole In My Pocket

It's interesting to note that many of the progressive sounds we listen to in music are derived from the basic folk and bluegrass scenes, with a touch of jazz thrown in. And when it's all lumped together it becomes a uniquely American sound.

This album is so good that I keep a copy in each car and on my flash drive. I just don't want to lose it!

"Ill Fly Away" - Gillian Welch and David Rawlings (2011)

I first posted this a few years ago. It's such a beautiful performance of the old standard that it deserves to be posted again. I listen to this one often in the car. Sue will have to tell you about me driving over the mountains one foggy and rainy night, singing this song and trusting in the Lord to take us home! She made me stop and get a motel room, which only led me to question her faith; and earning me no points at all....

Gillian Welch is one of the modern gospel singers who, along with guitarist, and real life partner David Rawlings; have been keeping that good old time gospel music alive for the past decade, or so. They are part of an independent music scene that increasingly draws upon the resources of our American past, particularly the so-called Appalachian sound, borne of the poverty and hopelessness of the Great Depression.

The main thing which attracts me to this type of music is that it is easily played by just about anyone with a guitar; including me. With just a few simple chords, the amateur guitarist can soar with the angels. Watch David Rawlings on the solo and see how he is at one with his instrument. That's an old 1936 National guitar and he never plays anything else that I've seen. And his sound and approach to music are as unique as that guitar.

Music is a balm which soothes the soul. And gospel music is one of the main roots to American music in general; even being somewhat of the basis for jazz; and certainly the father of rock and roll. I like playing this song- it relieves me of my troubles and pains. Sometimes music can transport you beyond this world and all of its shortcomings, hinting at a better place. Kind of like Judy Garland and “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” It’s all about hope. 

"Live from Mountain Stage" - John Hartford (2000)

I became a fan of John Hartford in about 2 seconds while watching the opening segment of the old “Glen Campbell Show” on CBS. If you’re old enough to remember, Glen Campbell used to sit in the audience and stand up as the show began, singing his landmark recording “Gentle On My Mind”. Standing with him was the song’s author, John Hartford, playing the banjo.

For years afterwards I always looked for John Hartford, either as a solo act, or playing backup on other artist’s recordings. Ask anyone in the music business and they will tell you with all honesty that John Hartford was the man who helped keep the genre of “Americana” alive through all of the changes in music which occurred during the 1970’s and 1980’s. He was the curator of part of our cultural history.

With his trademark bowler hat and sleeve garters, Mr. Hartford tap danced and fiddled his way across America during his almost 5 decades in show business, appearing on TV Shows, College Campuses and County Fairs. He was like a vision; a glimpse into the past of America; a time when steamboats roamed up and down the Mighty Mississippi, transporting cotton, and gamblers to their respective destinations. He was like a part of that scenery, although 100 years removed.

American music is composed of so many different styles, and comes from so many different roots. In it, you hear jazz, blues, slave chants, folk tunes from scores of countries, and even oriental influences combined into something unique. John Hartford fell hard for the Scots/Irish blend of fiddle music and banjo playing. And along the way he learned to write. From his earliest hits, like “Gentle On My Mind”, to his most obscure of later work, his music always evoked something of the American past. You can hear it in “Gentle On My Mind.” That banjo part just cuts through the whole song.

Curiously, he was born in New York City, before moving at an early age to Missouri, where he first saw his beloved river. In addition to all of his musical accomplishments; he played several instruments, and wrote many songs; he was also a licensed riverboat Captain.

This album is a compilation of three concerts recorded by Mr. Hartford for West Virginia’s NPR “Mountain Stage” shows at the West Virginia Cultural center Auditorium in Charleston; between March of 1994 and May of 1996. This album was released in 2000, a year prior to Mr. Hartford’s death in 2001. Just a quick look at the song list above will give you an idea of who he was musically. 

From his performance of these classics; such as Johnny Bond’s “I Wonder Where You are Tonight”, and Carl Butler’s poignant “My Tears Don’t Show”; and even his own songs, such as “Lorena”, “Gentle On My Mind”, and the humorous “Bring Your Clothes Back Home”; it is easy to feel the connection that he had with his audience. They loved the man. It was that simple, and palpable. He frequently tapped danced as he played, and you can hear his feet accompanying him on many of the tracks.

His death in 2001 left a vacuum in American music which has never quite been filled. But, whenever you see a juggler, a street musician, or anyone engaged in “street” art, you are looking at part of Mr. Hartford’s soul. He was our troubadour; our wandering minstrel. And, we will likely never see his like again.

Sunday Shirking

This cover by Norman Rockwell is from May 16th, 1959 is titled "Sunday Morning." I use it as one of my "Gone Fishing" signs. Generally, when you see a Norman Rockwell illustration on my page it means I'm off today. So, that's me hiding behind the newspaper, shirking whatever I am supposed to be doing.

Geodetic Survey Markers

Most people; myself included; get these markers confused with being the responsibility of the United States Coast Guard; and there is good reason for that. The initials USCGS, which stands for U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, are awfully similar to USCG, which stands for the United States Coast Guard. They are probably plagued by calls about these survey markers.

The USCGS became the National Geodetic Survey (NGS), and in 1970 was transferred to the control of NOAA, which stands for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. I guess that now would be a good time to tell you who they are and what they do. And also; why it’s important.

NGS; I’m going to stick with that acronym; is the agency that creates and then maintains the records for the grid system upon which all surveying in the United States is based. They have, since the 1800’s, provided a series of “bench marks”, or known coordinates, along with the height above sea level, upon which all other surveys; public and private, are based. That’s quite a challenge, and an even greater responsibility.

One of the nearest markers which I know of is about 15 minutes from my house. It sits in the brick wall of the old Davis Forge Company Building store off of Route 115 in Huntersville. The building has been there for many years. It’s kind of a local landmark which people come to look at. The marker is located on the wall on the right side of the front of the building, about waist high.

The system of coordinates which NOAA; formerly the NCGS; maintains is described as "a consistent coordinate system that defines latitude, longitude, height, scale, gravity, and orientation throughout the United States." Not only do private developers use these coordinates to build things, but the resultant Emergency response imagery rapidly provides aerial imagery for emergency relief in times of flood and other natural disasters.

The original USCG was established in 1807 by Congress during President Jefferson’s time in office. Under the original accomplishments of the agency was to map and chart our coast in the interest of expanding international trade. It was 4 more years before the agencies first representative, F.R. Hassler, even set sail for Europe in order to obtain all of the instruments necessary for that endeavor. And once there, he was stuck for the entire duration of the War of 1812. So, effectively, the work didn't begin until 1815.It would be another 20 years before that first undertaking was satisfactorily completed.

Hassler planned to use simple triangulation in order to accomplish his task. He began in New York, with his first baseline verified in 1817. In 1818 Congress placed the Navy and the Army in charge of Hassler’s work. This virtually stopped the program dead in its tracks until 1832. The reason was simple enough; there was no longer anybody clearly in charge of the work.

In 1832 Hassler was reappointed as head of the project and work began to move forward once again. The work was resumed in 1833. Although the Navy was officially in charge of the project, this time Hassler was able to turn things around slightly and had the Navy assisting him. The project was then turned over to the Treasury Department in 1836.

Ocean soundings were a part of this program as well as land surveys. Ocean soundings had long been measured by hand held “lead lines’ which were knotted at intervals in much the manner of the “sea log”, which was used to gauge the speed of a ship at sea. It wasn't until the invention of Sigsbee Sounding Machine in the latter half of the 19^th Century that things really took off.

Lieutenant Commander Charles Dwight Sigsbee, USN, served as an Assistant in the Coast Survey. He developed his sounding machine and commanded the ship Blake during the first “sound” surveys in the Gulf of Mexico. The ships were commanded by the Navy but manned with civilians and even one of the most famous scientists of the time, Alexander Agassiz, for assistance. NGS would not get their own ships; which were the precursors to today’s NOAA weather ships; until 1900.

The history behind these markers is long and sometimes complicated, as agencies and budgets changed over the years. By 1965 the agency was part of the Environmental Science Services Administration, but that only lasted for 5 years until NGS was transferred once again, this time to NOAA, where it remains today.

You may not have ever heard of these little markers, but the part they play in your daily lives cannot be disputed. For that reason these markers are federally protected, and require great effort to be removed, if they are allowed to be removed at all.

In the second picture I am taking a picture of a woman who came to visit the “old store.” Sue took the photo of me taking the photo of her. You can be sure that she didn't get her camera back until after I had told her about the Geodetic Survey.

"Casey at the Bat" by Ernest Lawrence Thayer (1888)

There is no way I can let the start of baseball season go unnoticed without reading this poem, which has long been a favorite of mine. I have posted it here each year and beg your indulgence while I do it again. With nothing new to add to the history of the poem, I’ll just re-post it without further ado;

In 1888 Ernest Lawrence Thayer's classic American poem "Casey At the Bat" was published to much acclaim in the San Francisco Examiner.

There are actually 3 versions of the poem, each one only slightly different. I have used the standard version, which I have posted here before. It has stood the test of time, and has actually been sung by various artists throughout the years. Even James Earl Jones has done a musical version of the piece. But nothing, and I mean nothing, can ever replace the inner voice when reading this poem. The tension, anger and disappointment all come through in the words themselves. With its simplistic rhyme scheme and cadence, this is always a sure winner with younger children, and a great way to introduce them to the joys of winning, as well as the necessity of sometimes coming up short. Now; "Play Ball!"

"Casey At the Bat" by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:

The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.

And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,

A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest

Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;

They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -

We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,

And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;

So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,

For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,

And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;

And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,

There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;

It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;

It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,

For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;

There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.

And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,

No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;

Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.

Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,

Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,

And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.

Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-

"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,

Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.

"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;

And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;

He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;

He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;

But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;

But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.

They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,

And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;

He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.

And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,

And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,

And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;

But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

"Live From Mountain River Stage" - John Hartford (2000 release)

I became a fan of John Hartford in about 2 seconds while watching the opening segment of the old “Glen Campbell Show” on CBS. If you’re old enough to remember, Glen Campbell used to sit in the audience and stand up as the show began, singing his landmark recording “Gentle On My Mind”. Standing with him was the song’s author, John Hartford, playing the banjo.

For years afterwards I always looked for John Hartford, either as a solo act, or playing backup on other artist’s recordings. Ask anyone in the music business and they will tell you with all honesty that John Hartford was the man who helped keep the genre of “Americana” alive through all of the changes in music which occurred during the 1970’s and 1980’s. He was the curator of part of our cultural history.

With his trademark bowler hat and sleeve garters, Mr. Hartford tap danced and fiddled his way across America during his almost 5 decades in show business, appearing on TV Shows, College Campuses and County Fairs. He was like a vision; a glimpse into the past of America; a time when steamboats roamed up and down the Mighty Mississippi, transporting cotton, and gamblers to their respective destinations. He was like a part of that scenery, although 100 years removed.

American music is composed of so many different styles, and comes from so many different roots. In it, you hear jazz, blues, slave chants, folk tunes from scores of countries, and even oriental influences combined into something unique. John Hartford fell hard for the Scots/Irish blend of fiddle music and banjo playing. And along the way he learned to write. From his earliest hits, like “Gentle On My Mind”, to his most obscure of later work, his music always evoked something of the American past. You can hear it in “Gentle On My Mind.” That banjo part just cuts through the whole song.

Curiously, he was born in New York City, before moving at an early age to Missouri, where he first saw his beloved river. In addition to all of his musical accomplishments; he played several instruments, and wrote many songs; he was a licensed riverboat Captain.

This album is a compilation of three concerts recorded by Mr. Hartford for West Virginia’s NPR “Mountain Stage” shows at the West Virginia Cultural center Auditorium in Charleston; between March of 1994 and May of 1996. This album was released in 2000, a year prior to Mr. Hartford’s death in 2001.  A quick look at the song list above will give you an idea of what he played. From classics such as Johnny Bond’s “I Wonder Where You are Tonight” and Carl Butler’s poignant “My Tears Don’t Show”, and then his own classics, such as “Lorena”, “Gentle On My Mind” and the humorous “Bring Your Clothes Back Home…”, it is easy to feel the connection that he had with his audience. They loved the man. It was that simple, and palpable. He frequently tapped danced as he played, and you can hear his feet accompanying him on many of the tracks.

His death in 2001 left a vacuum in American music which has never quite been filled. But, whenever you see a juggler, a street musician, or anyone engaged in “street” art, you are looking at part of Mr. Hartford’s soul. He was our troubadour, our wandering minstrel. And, we will likely never see his like again.

Myra's Ice Cream - Valdese, North Carolina

This is Myra's Ice Cream in Valdese, North Carolina. With the neon signs, and REAL ice cream, you know, the kind you actually have to scoop, this is the Americana which Rick Lassiter was driving at in his book and documentary film "Our Vanishing Americana."

Talking with some of the local residents, who are longtime inhabitants of the town, you find that back in 1958, when Myra's first opened as a Tastee Freeze, this was the place to go on Friday nights. Myra's is like the typical malt shop you see in "American Graffiti", or the malt shop in "Happy Day's." The only difference is that this is the real thing. If only the walls could talk, they would tell tales of ducktails, bobby socks, hot rods and kids going steady. The juke box is new, but I bet the old one had better music. The Platters, Elvis, Shangri-La's, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, The Mills Brothers, have all passed through this place. You can almost hear it.

Sue, and I, were up in Valdese yesterday, it's about 70 miles from our house, to look about the historical town, which was founded by a sect of Christians who were persecuted in Northwestern Italy for their beliefs. First settled in 1895, the town is a beautiful example of the era in which it was founded. Miraculously, it has survived all the urban renewal and big box stores that line the Inetersate, which runs nearby. It's a long way to go for a malt, but the pleasure of stepping back in time is worth the trip. Don't I look happy?

Trains

Trains, they've always been there, on the periphery of my life, whistling in the night, chugging through my past and present, fueling my imagination. I've watched them, and counted the cars as they lumbered past, some over a mile long! I've never minded waiting for a freight train to pass. It's an opportunity to let my imagination go.

Ever since I was a kid, I've walked the tracks, flattened coins on the rails, collected spikes, felt the rush of the air as the train passed within inches of me, rattling the earth beneath my feet as they did. My reaction has always been the same, I stand silently, wrapped in the fading sound, lost in the vibrations emanating from the rails, and up through my body, like some surreal electrical charge.

What is this fascination with trains? I'm not the only one. There are museums, train rides, songs about great train wrecks, and the stories of the hobo's who rode the rails during the Great Depression. These two photos are of some trains a few miles from our house. The Caboose is my favorite.

This is a typical caboose, an icon of American railroads. It's a home on wheels, wheels that are bound to the tracks, making them seem permanent, a fixture in our collective minds. This is home to the signalman as he travels at the rear of the train, the last person to see where the train has been. It's a backwards journey, you can't see anything in front of you. Just a fading landscape, growing smaller and smaller as the wheels go clickity clack, clickity clack, on their journey across America.

And sometimes, when I'm waiting for the train to pass, I find myself wishing I were a bit younger. I just might hop on board...

Groundhog Day - A Brief Comment

With winter only 5 weeks old, we find ourselves once again engaged in the old tradition of waking up the groundhogs early from their winter's hibernation, in order to ask them when winter will end, as if they know. And, more to the point, would be the fact that, if they did know, they couldn't tell us. So, as with last year, and many years prior to that, I'm rooting for the groundhogs again. This year, I'm hoping they're going to do something dramatic, like take a healthy bite out of the hands that wake them up!

With blizzards raging across a 2,000 mile long swath of the country, the groundhog is the smartest guy in town. He's deep down in his hole, sleeping. To those who wish to trek out into 3 foot of snow, and dig him out - best of luck. My own prediction, based upon the calendar, and not my arthritis, is that it will be winter until it is over in about 6 weeks.

"Weird Michigan" by Linda S. Godfrey

This is a fantastic book, something along the lines of the book and film by Mike Lassiter and Scott Galloway, "Our Vanishing Americana", both of which I reviewed here a few months back. If I thought my state was strange, well, you know the saying, "The Grass Is Always Greener on the Other Side?" This book may prove that to be true.

All states have their own regional qualities and assortment of quirky artifacts and legends, but Michigan seems to abound in these things. The book is organized into categories such as Local legends, Mysteries, Fabled Places, Phenomena, Beasts, Oddities and even a section entitled "Haunted Michigan."

The book reads well, too. The author has carefully written down the legends and stories in a most readable manner, guaranteed to preserve these local oddities for generations to come, at least on paper and in photos. Just as in "Our Vanishing Americana" you get the feeling that these things will not be with us for that much longer.

If I had to pick my favorite piece from the book it would be "The Glass Tower." It was built by Michael Evans in the town of Matherton, 25 miles northeast of Lansing. Rather than attempt to tell you about it myself, I will use the words of Mr. Evans cousin to describe it. He also has a webpage about it with a few more photos, including one of the Tower as it used to look at night when lit.

"If any of you have seen the book "Weird Michigan", then you've read the story about this tower. My cousin built it in the 70s. He died in 1987. He had been in a Automobile accident and was in a wheelchair when he built it.

According to the book the tower is 20 foot tall and shaped like a bottle. It was built between 1973 and 1983. People gave him bottles and he and the kids picked up bottles along side of the roads. (For a time Michigan had a no return policy for bottles, so many of them littered the highways). It has about 10,000 bottles in it.

He had a lot of help from the local teenagers, and about everybody in this town (population about 250) were related to him in some way so he had a lot of relative help too."

Here is the link to the Tower site; http://www.pbase.com/image/75040405

For me the Tower of Bottles is a very personal sort of thing, as I collect them. I have always loved glass bottles, as a kid I considered them to be art.(Eventually the rest of the world caught up to my thinking.)

This is a fun, quirky book about the funny and quirky people that we all are deep inside. It's just that some people have a way of putting their ideas into action, creating all the unusual things that there are to see around us. And it seems there is an over abundance of these things in Michigan. I just might have to take a drive up North this summer and see them.

"Our Vanishing Americana" A Documentary by Mike Lassiter and Scott Galloway

I was pleasantly surprised to hear that Mike Lassiter and Scott Galloway, both local residents, were having a screening of their film, "Our Vanishing Americana", at the local Public School in Davidson this past Sunday. Originally published as a book by Mr. Lassiter in 2006, this beautiful collection of photographs, and their accompanying stories, were, with the aid of Scott Galloway, made into a wonderful film documentary in 2009. I originally ran across this book at the Library in Mooresville and saw the film last winter on TV1, a local municipal station. The whole idea of making a film from the book sprang from the simple act of Mr. Lassiter's having met Mr. Galloway. Sharing the same passion for these old stores propelled them to collaborate on the film. So they set off to revisit several of the places shown in the original book.

Utilizing the photographs of local "Mom and Pop" stores, Mr. Lassiter had drawn an impression of North Carolina that seems to disappear more quickly with each passing day. (Witness the old Fire Station on South Boulevard as a recent example.) It's what we do here, tear down the old buildings and landmarks, replacing them with corporate arenas that no one wants, or attends. Shopping malls, large and small, along with housing developments, dot the countryside where once there were beautiful, intimate towns and country stores. Some of these stores had been owned and operated for generations by the same families. There aren't that many left.

I am lucky enough to live in an area of the state that is home to a few of the stores highlighted in the book, as well as the film. The personalities of the people in the original photos seem to spring to life on the screen. And Mr. Galloway does a superb job in making that happen. He captures on film, that quality of light, and even the ambience of the places he films. With the added combination of Mr. Lassiter's narrative, the whole experience takes on a life of it's own.

The music that punctuates portions of the film is, for the most part, all homegrown. From "Country Roads" by native son James Taylor, to the rollicking sound of "Wagon Wheel" by Old Crow Medicine Show, the music is pure North Carolina, and speaks to the beauty of the area.

One of the best, and most poignant portraits in the film is the segment that deals with Hinckle's Market in Lexington. The store is in it's third generation, and while the current owner and his brother have often contemplated closing it, whenever a customer comes in and tells him that the town couldn't live without him, they simply keep on.

D.E. Turner's Hardware store, located about 15 minutes from my home, is featured in the film. I have purchased odds and ends there for over 10 years. I have bought as few as 4 screws there when necessary to complete a job. His Radio Flyer collection of toys is unequaled the area.

The whole point of this effort by Mr. Lassiter and Mr. Galloway, is not simply to sell nostalgia, but more importantly, to ask what we can do to preserve these stores for our children and grandchildren. And while we all understand the necessity of shopping for the best price, maybe we can step back a bit and buy some things from our local Main Street stores. Only by keeping the stores economically viable can we hope to keep them going for yet another generation. And the most important thing of all is that with each of these "mom and pop" shops that gets lost - we lose a little bit more of ourselves.

Here is the link to the site for "Our Vanishing Americana." Hurry up and take a look, it's going fast. And thanks to Mr. Lassiter and Mr. Galloway for a delightful treat on a Sunday afternoon.

http://ncamericana.com/

Putumaya - World Music Series

Fot those not familiar with the Putumaya Series of World Music I should explain that this album is but one of many. There are Putumaya albums for virtually every type of music, and I have them all, courtesy of my local Public Library. As a matter of fact, these CD's represent world music in such a way that even the Mooresville Public Library, which does not have CD's, has these CD's. They are, literally, that valid, almost as much so as literature.

This album, "Americana", draws on every genre of American music, from the jazzy sound of Nora Roberts singing with The Little Willies, to the gospel sound of Terri Hendrix ,all the sounds of American music are on display. The playlist may contain some names you have not heard before, such as The Little Willies, but these are the sounds that really drive the creativity of today's musicians.

1 Robinella • Down the Mountain
2 Mulehead • Frankie Lee
3 The Little Willies • It's Not You It's Me
4 Robert Earl Keen • Ride
5 Eliza Lynn • Sing a New Song
6 Old Crow Medicine Show • Wagon Wheel
7 Chip Taylor & Carrie Rodriguez • Sweet Tequila Blues
8 Tim O'Brien • House of the Risin' Sun
9 Alison Brown • Deep Gap
10 Terri Hendrix • Prayer for My Friends
11 Josh Ritter • Harrisburg
12 Ruthie Foster • Hole In My Pocket

It's interesting to note that many of the progressive sounds we listen to in music are derived from the basic folk and bluegrass scenes, with a touch of jazz thrown in.And when it's all lumped together it becomes a uniquely American sound.

This album is so good that I keep a copy in each car and on my flashdrive. I just don't want to lose it! Here's the link to the site if you care to hear some of the tracks;


http://www.putumayo.com/en/catalog_item.php?album_id=243

"The Oxford Project" by Peter Feldstein and Stephen G. Bloom

In April 1984 Peter Feldstein wrote a letter to the residents of Oxford, Iowa. He asked them to participate in a photographic study of the town and its’ people. All 693 of them. And they all agreed!

Setting up in a storefront on Augusta Avenue he taped a sign in the window that said simply “Free Pictures.” He would file these photos away for 21 years and then re-photograph the residents and record the changes in the town. The results were very surprising.

In an era during which we went through the Reagan years and George Bush and then 8 years of Bill Clinton, through the first term of George W. Bush , this town has not changed all that much. The population of 693 is now 705. The racial make up of the town is largely the same as well. There were 265 houses there in 1984. In 2005 there were 286. Births and deaths seem to have been almost equal in number.

The photographs are just part of the real story here. Exclusively in black and white, the photos are stark images of the people who live and work in Oxford. The authors have arranged the photos in family groups with an accompanying narrative on each group. And the people are not at all shy when it comes to assessing themselves and their town. There seems to be no lack of candor in their responses.

The Hoyt family is a good example. Jim, Sr. is a World War Two veteran. He is one of the soldiers who liberated Buchenwald. In 1984 he poses dressed in a dark leather jacket and his VFW cap. He wears a tie. His last job was as a letter carrier.

His son Jim, Jr. is a Vietnam Veteran. He posed in a light colored jacket and slacks, also wearing a VFW cap. Like his Dad, he suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He works as a porter for J.C. Penny. In the 2005 photos they are clearly older, but both still look surprisingly strong.

Doris Hoyt is photographed in 1984 wearing a dress with a floral trimmed hem, a string of pearls around her neck. She looks amused. In the 2005 photo she wears slacks with a casual pullover. She still looks amused. She recounts the trials of both her husband and her son Jim, Jr. as well as the other members of the family. When you look at her you see an indomitable spirit. She is clearly the spine of the Hoyt family.

Some of the people photographed were children in 1984. In them you see the physical changes more clearly than in the elderly. But the interviews and quotes are what really give you an insight into these people.

This is an unusual and thought provoking book. Ranging from the simple and patriotic to the wild and adventurous, this book captures more than just the town of Oxford. Though on the surface the statistics show very little change in demographics, the accompanying narratives tell us so much more about the changes in attitude that have taken place all over America, even in small towns like Oxford.