I Wish My Dad Was Here

It’s always a song. It’s always when I hear something that connects somehow to another song we share. Or a memory. Or a moment. It’s always a song that makes me weep. When I rush to tell him. To make him hear. To extend just a little the borders of our shared...

It Started with The Virginia Waltz

Had a great in-person lesson on Tuesday and so yesterday, head full of ideas, had to break my instrument out to see what I could do. My big questions at my lesson were about fitting triplets and sixteenth notes into regular alternate picking. We came up with for or...

Taking a Look at my Martin Backpacker Mandolin

Martin guitars have always had a mythical status in my family because of a long-sold Martin that one of my dad’s older brothers owned when they were young. I remember how jealously I looked at the magazine ads when the Martin Backpacker Mandolin came out, and how sad...

Mario in the Snow

My first time taking Mario out in the snow. He was discovered by the State Police in a locked fence enclosure in a blizzard, so it wasn’t HIS first time in the snow. But it was our first time together in the...