What happened to day
14, that's what i want to know ?? Oh well... it was there... now it's
The third thursday of the festival usually sees a large influx of energy
returning to the ranch for the last weekend. This has been a very strange
week.. I've never seen the ranch so empty of energy during a festival.
It seems there was an abundance of people who stayed the first 11 days,
and not as large a segment who came for the last 11 days.
Threadgill tonight was a salute to the roots of the festival. Alan Damron
and Carolyn Hester, both of whom participated in the 1972 inaugural New
Folk songwriting contest made the evening enjoyable.
Of all the people on the ranch, (and there seems to be lots), the numbers
of people in their early 20's seems to have increased significantly from
prior years,, You need to take that with a grain of something, since i've
got a memory like a steel sieve. It guess it just seems the numbers of
singer/songwriters decreased this week more than previous years.
Campfires tonight are on the slow side.. Coho has a large circle, and
stupid is going. Most others i've passed are pretty quiet.
Tonight, i was lucky enough to get a massage at the back of camp coho.
It's wonderful to lay there, half-a-step above unconcious, taking in all
the wonderful music, and energy. Thank you debby.
Judy Smith says hello to all her friends in florida... She misses y'all
greatly and almost changed her mind and came back a couple of weeks or
so ago... But, that passed in a couple of hours..
Michael terry arrived back at the ranch about 10:30 tonight... Surprise!!
he brought kendra... We didn't expect her to be able to get here this
year. But he drove up and back to dalles to get her.. Ahhhhh... Ain't
love grand.. Michael got his first custom baked loaf of honey/craisin/walnut
bread... If you get to camp coho EARLY fri morning, there might be a piece
or two left.. The people who got here late last night must have been exhausted,
cuz they were nowhere to be found... By 2 or 2:30, the ranch was a pretty
quiet place, with most campfires in the talking stages, and occasional
howling to be heard...
About 4AM, a bare-breasted women's parade moved slowly past my tent and
up to Chapel Hill, where a long period of howling soon commenced... More
details were not available as of this time...
Now that we've got a storage unit here, i've started to accumulate junk
like any self-respecting pack-rat will do...
It's been a very strange festival for me.. lots of mental machinations..
It occurred to me last night, that i haven't let the ranch totally permeate
me this year, and for that, i'm sad... I base this on a much lower crying
quotient.. In previous years, it's seemed i've been crying more than this
year, and therefore closer to my roots.. I seem to be a little mentally
separated from some of the goings on.. Perhaps i'll be able to get past
that these last few days... It may be that last year at this time, i was
a completely lost soul, and beginning a rapid downward spiral that would
take me most of this past year to recover from. I'm still in the latter
stages (i hope by now that it's latter) of that recovery.
I hope to see y'all out here for the last weekend... If we cross paths,
please introduce yourself... I was walking toward threadgill the other
day, and passed a group of people who looked like they'd enjoy some bread...
One of them said: "oh, i read your ramblings all the time, until
i can get to the festival. I even read them during the year. They help
sustain me..." Wow... talk about sustenance.. i was filled up...
I hope those of you out there are enjoying these ramblings... I've heard
from a number of you, and that keeps me going at 3 or 4 in the morning
as i sit by my tent, typing what is dribbling out from all the holes in
Coming to you direct from the Kerrville Folk Festival in Texas
Brian (Breadman) Wolfsohn