Summer Adventures
This past weekend I headed to Winchester, Virginia. I had planned to overnight in the camper on my way there, but when I saw that it was only going to get down to 82 degrees overnight, I decided that I didn’t have anything to prove to anyone and got a hotel room.
That first day on the road I meandered through Cuyahoga Falls, just south of Cleveland, where I had arranged to meet my first-cousin-once-removed Emily for lunch (I think of her more like a niece than a cousin, but I like to be accurate…). I don’t see her nearly often enough so love it when I’m passing through and we have a meet-up!
This is Emily
I keep trying to get Emily to move to Ann Arbor, but she just won’t do it! Turns out she loves living in Cuyahoga Falls and I don’t blame her for wanting to stay. It’s a great little city with a national park very close by. Not to mention her mom.
When I left Emily I headed down Route 77 and realized I would be passing right through Bolivar, where my Lebold ancestors settled and we spent many happy times at the family homestead. I got off the exit and went first to the cemetery, where I visited my parents. While there I sprinkled some of Jay’s ashes, thinking maybe it would be nice for him to visit them too. Then I headed to the old farmhouse where my dad and all his siblings were born.
The house looked pretty good!
It’s not unusual for random Lebolds to stop by the old homestead to have a look and introduce themselves to whoever the current owner is. Usually we are met with open arms. This time, though, the owner was in no mood for visitors. I saw him open the door to let his dogs out to terrorize me while he stayed inside and refused to come out to see who it might be. The two border collies barked but turned out to be super friendly, especially Charlie. After they calmed down and I proved to the owner (who I presume was watching me out a window) that I was a friend of dogs and could have been a friend of his, I made my exit.
From Boliver I was feeling nostalgic and thinking about my book and Jay, so got off the interstate and made my way to Salt Fork State Park, where Jay and I spent our wedding night in 1981. It was a beautiful lodge in a beautiful park, but our honeymoon was shortlived because we got married between the end of the semester and finals week and had to get back to Columbus the next day to study. As I entered the park a cardinal flew across the road in front of me. I saw that as a sign that he was glad I made the detour, so I made sure to sprinkle some ashes near the Salt Fork Lodge before heading back to the main road.
I also stopped in Clarington, Ohio and Wheeling, West Virginia. I’ll save the significance of those two places for the next article I’m already thinking about (See? I told you all I wasn’t going to try to pack everything into one endless article anymore!).
The next day I drove mostly off the interstate through the beautiful mountains and hollers of Appalachia to arrive in Winchester just in time for registration.
Murphy Method Banjo Camp
I think the mention of summer camp, for those of us who either attended ourselves or have children who did (or who have watched movies that include the summer camp experience), conjures up images of rolling hills, ropes courses, lakes, kayaks, hiking, cabins, tents, campfires, and any number of other outdoor group activities. Whether they are met or not, I believe the goals of most youth camps center around teaching self-sufficiency, learning skills, building confidence, creating community and making friends.
My summer camp experience was very different from the above images, but I would say that the goals were exactly the same. I have attended three different banjo camps this year: in mid-March, early June, and end of July. There are some similarities between the three experiences, but the July camp was something special. First of all, we were a small group of only women, which allowed for a certain amount of “safety” and intimacy among us as we went through our days. Second, our camp directors were two professional banjo players and teachers who happen to be a mother and daughter team. We got one on one attention and support whenever we needed it, and there was no pressure to do more than we were ready to do. Third, instead of being in the great outdoors we were holed up in hotel conference rooms for three days. I don’t believe anyone missed the distraction of an outdoor playground because the environment that surrounded us was secondary to our focus on the people and instruments. Finally, instead of having a curfew and “lights out” at a certain time every night, we were encouraged to stay up as late as we wanted and make music together. After 11 years of offering this type of camp experience, Murphy and Casey have figured out their formula for success.
Meet Murphy Henry and her daughter Casey Henry. Both virtuoso musicians whose mission it is to spread the joy of bluegrass and acoustic instruments - especially banjo!! - to anyone who wants to learn to play. Here is a link to one of the performances they did during the camp weekend (one of my favorites among the many songs that Murphy has written over the years).
Although I don’t have to write a school report on how I spent my summer vacation, I thought I would share a little of my experience here. I’ll start with what I learned:
There are no shortcuts to learning a new skill. You have to practice that skill until you’re sick of it. That’s the only way to build the muscle memory you need to have in order to have fun later.
If the new skill you are learning involves performing with or in front of others, then being embarrassed by your mistakes, plowing forward anyway, and ignoring your fears is a necessary part of getting better. Just do it.
Don’t try to do too much too fast. Learning a new skill is a developmental, progressive process. You can’t skip steps.
There are effective methods to learning new skills, and ineffective ones. Make sure you know the difference between the two and pick the effective ones. This may require unlearning bad habits and letting go of crutches if the effective method wasn’t your original starting point. But once you are on the right path you can feel good about all the progress you will finally be able to make.
No matter your skill level when you arrive to camp, if you stick with the program and don’t get discouraged or intimidated by others who are better than you, then you will definitely be better when you leave. Embrace the challenge and soak up all the friendly support. They’ve all been where you are.
Persistence will pay off. Just be patient and don’t get discouraged when it takes longer than you want it to.
What made the experience different from the other camps and special:
This camp was a family affair from start to finish. The love and joy among the local family and friends who made appearances during the weekend were palpable, and contagious. This is a musical community of people who love each other as much as the music they play. The concerts each night and performances each morning were delightful and fun and heartfelt. Many of the songs Murphy has written speak to family experiences and the love between generations.
The sense of community we built together was also palpable. On Sunday morning, while Casey and Murphy played and sang, we joined them for a group sing on Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, Will the Circle Be Unbroken, and Amazing Grace. Our harmonies as we sang together were seamless and beautiful.
The karaoke portion of the program each day was an opportunity to make a no-holds-barred attempt at a live performance, regardless of your skill level. To encourage us, we had Murphy on guitar and Marshall Wilburn, a hall of fame bluegrass and multiple award-winning bass player, as our backup band. The songs performed by the students were beautifully executed and everyone had fun even when they messed up. I was going to wait and save my one prepared number for the second night, but while watching the others on the first night and appreciating the forgiving and supportive nature of this special group of women, I convinced myself that I could pull off Foggy Mountain Breakdown. After several false starts, I got through it - slowly, but yay for me! The second night I took my opportunity for redemption. More about that below.
That Was Then
This is a lightly edited version of how I described my ill-fated performance at Conrad and Maria’s wedding almost a year ago (here is a link to that full rundown of everything wedding if anyone missed it the first time around and has interest now - and lots of time on their hands…):
One highlight of the evening was when the Lebold Family and Friends Band played a song written especially for Conrad and Maria by my brother-in-law David. The tune chosen was You Are My Sunshine because it is a relatively simple song with only 3 chord changes. I practiced that song and my little solo part every single day all summer long no matter where I was or what else I was doing. By the time the wedding day rolled around I was feeling pretty good about my chances of being able to play it in front of a crowd of 90 people. Even the slight setback a week before the wedding when my banjo neck broke after falling off its stand didn’t deter me. I was able to get it repaired within a day and kept right on practicing.
Those of you who were there remember this scene.
When the moment came and the musicians were gathering, I introduced the performance, told the story of how Conrad had encouraged me to get the banjo 20 years earlier, and went to get my instrument. Horrors! I couldn’t find my fingerpicks! The rest of the band warmed up while I scurried around desperately searching for them. I was already nervous and this didn’t help. The band and guests waited while I rushed around like a madwoman.
Finally found the picks, sat down, and the band immediately launched right into the song. With no time to warm up (and having had no rehearsals with the entire group), my hands were shaking as I tried in vain to keep up with the too-fast-for-me-tempo that had been set by the keyboardist who was at the opposite end from where I was (in fairness to Josh, the song was already at a glacially slow pace, but I didn’t have any ability to signal him that it was still too fast because he was too far away and I had to focus on my fingers). I had not found my rhythm by the time my solo was supposed to start and, you guessed it, totally flubbed it. I’m sure the guests didn’t care one whit, and the rest of the song was fine because everyone else knew what they were doing, but I was left annoyed and frustrated with myself. The evening continued on and I hoped that the song was a highlight even with its flawed banjo player.
Can you see my fingers shaking? Can you hear Stefan whispering loudly in my ear: “Don’t stop! This is a gig! Don’t stop!!” I gamely kept jumping in and out of the song and am proud to say I did actually manage to do a few backup rolls here and there - my solo break never materialized, however.
This Is Now
Fast forward 10 months. When I got Casey’s email about “Karaoke Night” being added to our program schedule for the weekend, it was a no-brainer for me. It was time for redemption, and if I couldn’t manage to do my solo in this safe space in front of a bunch of souls who understood exactly how I felt at the wedding and could appreciate my need to try again, then I never would.
So I practiced, practiced, practiced all summer leading up to the camp. I decided to go one step further than I did at the wedding. Not having the Lebold Family and Friends Band to provide the singing, I knew I was going to have to do that part as well. As anyone will tell you I am pretty phobic about singing publicly and only belt out songs when I am alone in my car or being drowned out by people around me. Doing a solo singing performance in addition to a solo banjo break was almost unthinkable. (my mother always said my singing phobia began when I was very young and had a vacation Bible school teacher who tried to force me to sing. Apparently I never recovered).
I decided I needed to be one of the early performers so that I wouldn’t chicken out. When it was my turn I made my way to the front of the room and told my sad tale about the wedding debacle. I asked for a volunteer to hold the lyrics in front of me, and then got ready to play. Someone offered to record it for me and I thought “Why not?” After all, if I flub it again I don’t have to show it to anyone, ever. If it is truly redemptive, then I can share it as proof that I actually know how to play that break.
My story was too long (was I just stalling for time, dragging out all the details as I avoided sitting down and playing? Something Freudian going on I think…), and the song was also pretty long, but everyone was very polite. I got through all four verses with the choruses, and - most importantly - managed to perform my solo break at least twice during the song.
WOO HOO!!! I DID IT!!
There is a video but I haven’t seen it yet. It is kind of long and we are figuring out the best way to get a link to me. I’ll decide whether to share it once I’ve seen it… I admit it was kind of an emotional experience for me as I sang those words and thought back to how wonderful and special that wedding was.
My all-star backup band performed flawlessly, of course, and managed to keep pace with my singing and playing, erratic as it was.
As Murphy likes to say, “And there you have it.”
Thank you Murphy, Casey, Marshall, and the rest of the students and guest performers for making this camp a truly great experience. See you all next year??
Next Steps
This week I am shifting focus to my upcoming Lewis and Clark road trip. This recent road trip to Virginia included stops at places relevant to the Voyage of Discovery. My next article will begin to set the stage for what was going on in 1803 before the expedition launched from St. Louis, and my own preparations for the trip. Stay tuned. Feel free to subscribe if you haven’t already so that you can get a notice whenever I post an article during the trip. I leave August 20. (in case you’re wondering, my email list is used for nothing more than notifying people when I happen to post an article on my blog site)
