A Place I Go

When I have a few days free of performances and obligations here at our studio in Charlotte, there's a place I go in the Low Country of South Carolina. It's a secluded place, the perfect spot to do some writing. There's no phone, no TV and no Internet.

Last week I had three concepts to present by Friday. It sounded like a good time for a few days "in the Village," to focus on the task at hand.

I have a writing table that looks out over a marsh and a small creek. It's very inspiring. Seated here with the salted breeze on my face, I can watch the marsh activities throughout the day. I see an osprey pluck a spottail out of the creek and soar skyward while he turns the fish in his talons to parallel his own body to better his aerodynamics. An egret stalks silently upstream and cormorants swim underwater. A giant pileated woodpecker drums on a pine tree while mullet jump three feet out of the water. Stoic blue herons stare out from the marsh grass. Amazingly, a bald eagle occasionally criss-crosses the marsh with a piercing scream to announce her arrival. Watching this wetlands smorgasbord, I tap away on my laptop.

As darkness falls, the writing intensifies. I have a bottle of Beaujolais tucked away. Bastille Day is a few months off, but I figure what the heck. As Buffett says, "I'm a Frenchman for a day." The Beaujolais is full-bodied and wonderful. It fuels the creative spirit. A draft of the three concepts is completed.

I spend the rest of my time in the Village editing and tinkering the piece. There's time for sitting on the dock and staring off across the marsh as the flag above pops in the prevailing breeze. The osprey checks back in and another mullet jumps. I'm sad that my time to leave is fast approaching. It's time to get back on the performance road.

I pack up and head out for some shows in Wake Forest, NC. My truck windows are open as I roll down the dirt road, I hear the bald eagle scream above the marsh and I look back for one final glance.

Day Trip to Aiken, SC

I love days like yesterday, which found me on the road at a reasonable hour for a mid-day performance and then back home, also at a reasonable hour! Added bonus? The destination was an ultra-cool little Southern town, one of my favorites, Aiken, SC!

I hit the road at 7:30am armed with some Home brew, sliced "Gala" apples and a burrito I made with fresh eggs from Marybeth across the street. The tunes were locked on XM 55.

Heading to Aiken always reminds me of when I was a teenager and I would take my horse, Nikki, there for schooling shows. It is a horse town for sure. I remember sleeping in the barn there and hearing the horses make their horse sounds. Lying on my back I would watch the bats in the rafters and breathe in the smells of hay, woodchips and manure. For me, a more savory, sensory concoction just doesn't exist!

I rolled into Aiken on US 1 to see a palette of huge azaleas that were resplendent in every color imaginable. Standing guard over them were dogwoods with blooms so luminescent they seemingly glowed on their own in the bright morning sunshine. I love the South! It was so beautiful.

I eased through downtown Aiken-proper, headed down Whiskey Road and turned into Hopelands Gardens. This was my third year doing this event, so knowing where to go and how to get there is always a comfort. This was an outdoor performance of our show called "A Show of Virtues." The performance space is a neat amphitheatre with a nifty creek between the stage and the audience. Alicia Davis, with the Aiken Parks and Rec. Department, always does a fantastic job of getting a huge crowd and perfect weather for this mid-week happening. Folks come and spread their blankets out and picnic during the show. The Easter Bunny cajoles about while Bufflehead Ducks swim in the creek before me. It is a bucolic place to do some puppets!

The show went well! Not always the case with an outdoor performance, which present their own set of problems; is the music loud enough, will that crow stop cawing and who is that walking out on the stage sort of stuff. Also, there was this little problem of no windscreen on my mike which led me to play a lot to stage right, thus enabling me to use my head to block the breeze that was terrorizing the microphone. In the calm moments, I would overplay it back to the left, hoping to keep those folks in the loop as well! Despite all that, I plowed in to the performance with optimism. In an effort to hold every one's attention, I ratcheted up my pacing a tick, raised the energy level and puppeteered away. The audience laughed and cheered and we all seemed to have a fine time.

I packed up the show and rolled it out to the truck. The load out area backs up to a barn that's on the grounds as well. As I shoved the last crate on board, the smell of hay and the soft nicker of a large Bay completed the day. Man oh man.