Three Great Opportunities to see Blackberry Winter this Weekend!

Whoa! Listen up, Peeps. Here’s your chance to soak up as much Blackberry Winter Band music as you can possibly stand, culminating in a stellar performance of  the whole Enchillada, presented Saturday, Oct. 1, 7 p.m. at the Licking High School Gymnasium. This last is a fundraiser for the small but mighty Licking Museum of Art and History, an endeavor which deserves our support.

One doesn’t immediately link the town of Licking with art and history, but we should, and here’s why.

First, the art, much of it contributed by a Licking high school alum who is repaying his childhood home for its merits as a childhood home by contributing very impressive pieces of art to the museum on a regular basis. I’m not going to reveal the museum contents, but they have some great stuff, and the collection is growing.

And then there’s the history. Licking got its name, you see, from the salt lick just outside of town which has been visited for at least the past 6,000 years by various tribes seeking salt. Then the pioneers arrived, stayed, and left behind all of their trash, er, artifacts, as well. The museum’s collection has been steadily growing, and has some very fun stuff.

Altogether a fine place to support. Come see us there for the full show. Along with opening group, the “Missouri River Band,” it promises a fine night of music and frolic.

If you can’t make the drive north, we’re doing the short version of the show at A La Carte on Friday night (Sept. 30) starting at 6 p.m. and going until 7:30; after which we will adjourn to the OACC gathering at Ananda Kanan to perform a few numbers for those folks, who will be doing their regular talent show Saturday and we can’t make it because we’ll be at Licking.

So really, there’s no excuse not to get your full dose of Blackberry Winter before we go on our month-long hiatus to get some other stuff done, dig the sweet potatoes and all that. Come on out and let us see your smiling faces on one or more of these splendid autumn nights.

Friday, Sept. 30:
6 to 7:30 p.m. A La Carte, on Court Square in West Plains
8:15 – 9 p.m. Ananda Kanan, at Ozarks Area Community Congress

Saturday
Licking High School Gymnasium
Show starts at 7 with Missouri River Band
<<<<BONUS!!  HOMEMADE PIE AUCTION!!>>>>>
8 P.M. THE MAIN EVENT: BLACKBERRY WINTER BAND
It’s a good cause. Don’t miss it. And if you must, send your $10 donation to:
Licking Museum of Art and History, 114 S. Main St., Licking, MO

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The Last and Final Chapter of “The Amazing Geriatric Hillbilly US World Tour, page 33

We all sleep well in our various digs, and Bobby fixes us biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast. It’s a keen reminder of how close we are to home. But instead of heading that way, when we’re all collected and packed into the van, we head east, catch I-70 and make our way across the state, following the river, to the confluence of the Missouri and the Mississippi, where the French settled across the river from the remains of the great city of Cahokia. Here in St. Louis, among the billions of bricks that make up this fair city, we are successful at finding the Off Broadway (aptly named) venue where we’re booked to play. But we are entirely unsuccessful at finding a decent meal, ending up at a Jack In the Box eating some kind of rice and chicken dish and watching Van getting hustled out of 5 bucks by a gay, black and extremely entertaining hustler. We were about to all chip in when the fellow left, singing. What a way to end the tour. But it wasn’t over. We still had to deliver at the Off Broadway, and we did, and collected our fee headed down I-44, at last, for home. We pulled into my driveway some time around 3 a.m., quickly unloaded the van into various vehicles, and said our goodbyes. Not a soul was sad to see it end. But there wasn’t a one of us who would have missed it for anything. We’re still playing often, and closer to home, and are none the worse for the wear. But we are changed. In more ways than I can count. But that’s another story. This one is exhausted and ready to say good night, John-boy. Thanks for coming along with us.

-m

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Page 32 of “the tour”

We drive all day and actually cheer as we cross the Iowa line into Missouri. We’re still some hours from Kansas City, but our hearts are perceptibly lighter. We roll in and locate the venue, and get some surprises, all of which send our spirits flying. Van’s entire family from the area has shown up, from much adored baby brother Bobby to sister-in-law Susie, who helped publicize this gig. And I’m seeing not only old friend Phyllis’ (from San Francisco) mother, but a whole table full of folks who are alums of my old high school, come to see the show. We give them one, and after much visiting and catching up, retire to Bobby’s house for the night. Except one band member has a cold, and another wants a better night’s sleep, so eventually three of them wander off to find a motel. A Quality Inn gives them a good deal on a two-room suite, then stiffs them by accepting a cash payment and then charging the rooms to the credit card that was used to hold the room. The clerk was “busy” and didn’t mark the receipt as paid in cash, and by the time the credit card bill came, it was far too late to make any argument. The difference came out of the band account, making it a unique situation in which the room got paid for three times. But we’ll think carefully before spending another night in a Quality Inn, and you should, too.

-m

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Page 31 of the Amazing Geriatric Hillbilly US World Tour, aka the Winter’s Bone Tour with Blackberry Winter Band

Page 31 and nearing the end, only 2 months and five days after we actually did. I got a puppy, ok, a part-Jack Russell, and I got the part with the springs in the legs. You want ‘m? Anyway, he’s one of the 407 reasons I’m so far behind in my blogging. And now, God help us, I’ve reminded myself of that old joke about the butcher who backed into the meat grinder and got a little behind in his work. Ok, that’s it. Back  to the tour.
We blitzed our way across the Wisconsin countryside without getting our frail union busted or ever spotting a cheese store (like the Washington apples, they export their trademarked goods) and after some several hours driving we stumble across the border into Minnesota. We find the quaint and surprisingly sweet Cedar Center, an entertainment venue built from a former gymnasium in a neighborhood that was historically working class and is now making itself a new history as a community that is made of an enormous variety of refugees, mostly Somalis. We’re early, so we go for coffee and some dinner next door at a splendid little coffee place, and have the pretty cool experience of seeing people outside looking in the window and pointing us our to their friends. We’re stars, at least for tonight. The show goes smoothly and we are visited by a person from home, Kitty McFarland, who attends and brings friends. She looks happy and at peace, and so richly deserves it. Tired and weary of traveling, though not of the time spent playing, we retire to another Motel 6, where tension between two of the band members have reached the boiling point. There are hard words before they separate, one to a room where calm is eventually restored, the other to sleep in the van. It’s here I finally work out the source of the irritation. Sleep patterns. One has a hard time coming down off the adrenaline of the show, and so stays late channel surfing. The other can’t sleep through the racket and wakes early, cranky and ready to make some noise of his own. They’re neither of them getting any sleep, and now something must be done.
When morning comes I attempt an intervention, which, please God, works. One says he’s sorry, the other is contrite over the words spoken, and neither want to get off this otherwise wonderful train. We agree on that, and it’s 25 down, two to go.
-m
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Page 30, The usual, the tour, The Blackberry Winter Band!

Resentments are festering again, and I’m beginning to ferret out the cause. It’s no one’s fault, just people’s differing habits. It will come to a head soon, but I think I’ll know what to do. In the meantime, we’re off to Chicago, if we can find it. Miles of road construction later, we blunder our way into Gary, hurtled down a marked off ramp into a no-man’s-land of rusted girders and plowed up roadways, with a thin ribbon of temporary asphalt wavering down the middle. At its end, we find three roads but no sign anywhere telling us which is the right one. Then, across the way, we spy words and an arrow, spray painted in graffiti black. I-94, it says, and the arrow points left. It could have sent us anywhere, but it steered us right, and we are out of the maze and onto the interstate, and the Chicago skyline soon appears. The venue, Lincoln Hall, is lovely and we are well received. It’s another night at Motel 6, and then north across Wisconsin, headed for Minneapolis.

-m

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Page 29, That amazing tour of the US with a bunch of oldsters.

Rested and refreshed, and with a shorter distance to drive, we leave Chagrin Falls around noon and head for Columbus. It’s another indie bar, Rumba Cafe, with a small crowd. But they are all serious fans, and again, they get on their cell phones, and soon we have a full house. They demand encores, we deliver, and exit happily, headed for the nearest Motel 6.

-m

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Page 28, The Amazing Geriatric Hillbilly US World Tour

A long trek through the urban wilderness of Manhattan, the Jersey ‘burbs and across the Chesapeake Bay watershed brought us to Cleveland, the Beachland Ballroom and old and dear friends Dana and Micky Leake. Another ballroom, this one having its beginnings in the ’30s also, but a ballroom from the start. Somewhere in the ’50s it fell on hard times and became a home for the elderly of the Croatian community. Eventually, it struggled its way back into an entertainment venue. We started with a small audience, but as we were to see happen frequently, those in attendance got on their cell phones and called in their friends. Some even wandered next door to the Beachland Lounge and stole that band’s audience. By intermission, the crowd was quite respectable.

Following the performance, we followed the Leakes to their Chagrin Falls home and took a day off. Some went birding at the lake, others napped and took long walks. The constant motion and drive of the road is beginning to wear, and many seek time alone. Small irritations have grown into sore spots, and the break is badly needed. No better place than at this peaceful, spacious home with its kindly hosts. Revived, we head for Columbus.

-m

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