tag:www.ronblock.com,2005:/blogs/hogan-s-house-of-music-day-1-in-the-studio?p=2Hogan's House of Music - Day 1 in the Studio2019-03-07T18:04:13-06:00Ron Blockfalsetag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37986162015-07-31T20:45:40-05:002017-01-10T07:08:19-06:00Stories from the Studio (New Wine Studios, High Desert, Southern California)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/0ec319b5a17545f0ffe435b55633a285444a9a60/medium/img-7323-1.jpg?1438393738" class="size_m justify_left border_" />After four and a half days of mixing eighteen tunes Eric Uglum and I are basically finished excepting minor tweaks that come up in the next few days.<br> <br>I’ve known Eric Uglum since the early 1980s when we played a couple of years in a local band together. After that we played for several years in a regional band called Weary Hearts, and then later, briefly, in another band called New Wine. We spent many hours driving across the deserts, through mountains, along the coast, playing festivals and venues from California through British Columbia and on up the Alaska Highway to the Yukon, to Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Arkansas, and Nashville, usually in his white Volkswagen Scirocco. I remember one drive across the desert when his clutch cable popped out of its sheath. We limped to a convenience store and ate several popsicles, and then Eric duct-taped the sticks to the clutch cable and our trip was back underway. As far as I know it never needed replacing.<br><br>Eric has a really solid grasp on what is important in music and what is extraneous, which is incredibly helpful in mixing. He has mixed Sierra Hull’s first record, Secrets, Sean Watkins’ first solo cd, three cds of my own, and many others.<br> <br>We’ll finish up in the next few days with any tweaks via email and call it done. After that the record goes to Brad Blackwood at Euphonic Masters for mastering. <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/6a53962e71bf48c4a2c73894fadc48d81249c72f/medium/823565-4524038066784-1988285443-o.jpg?1438393357" class="size_m justify_left border_" /><br>Gordy Nichols, Rob Ickes, Butch Baldassari, engineer, Ron Block, Stuart Duncan, Eric Uglum, and Mike Bub making Butch's first record in the mid-1980s.Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37899632015-07-24T10:32:33-05:002017-01-10T07:08:19-06:00Stories from the Road (Berkeley)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/2c0251fd9c11c47e8abb109814008413f9f47840/medium/img-1717.jpg?1437750867" class="size_m justify_left border_" />The bus was parked yesterday in the hilly parking lot at the side of the Greek Theatre. The morning had fairly dense cloud cover but thin enough to still allow a lot of sunlight to pass through.<br> <br>Playing show after show for years with a band is an odd thing for me. Often I don’t exactly remember a venue until I see the backstage area. The Greek Theatre backstage area is very well done. There is an outdoor VIP area, open to the sun, with couches, tables, and colorful lamps strung up high, with varied tones of bright red, green, yellow, and blue. They serve food and drinks to the VIP folks – guests of the band and venue. The dressing rooms are downstairs, and are comfortable, clean, and well-decorated.<br><br>On the road, many things make a difference. Good catering, clean, well-done rooms, all these seem to contribute to a general good morale in band and crew.<br> <br>Another aspect of road life that contributes to good morale is maintaining a general positivity as much as possible. Too much negative talk or complaining is never good – it can spread. Honesty is necessary and good, yes, but only appropriately and in the right context. I think of any group, or organization, or family, or even a state or nation, as having connection like the parts of a body. If I feel negative on a given day, and I speak that out to the people around me, I am spreading it, like infection or disease. If I hold it and deal with it internally, deal with it in a way that is right and good, then I stop the disease from spreading.<br> <br>This is true in other things as well. C.S. Lewis talked about human beings as ships sailing together. We often think it is no one else’s business what we do with our own ship. But, as he said, “There are two ways in which the human machine goes wrong. One is when human individuals drift apart from one another, or else collide with one another and do one another damage, by cheating or bullying. The other is when things go wrong inside the individual— when the different parts of him (his different faculties and desires and so on) either drift apart or interfere with one another . You can get the idea plain if you think of us as a fleet of ships sailing in formation. The voyage will be a success only, in the first place, if the ships do not collide and get in one another’s way; and, secondly, if each ship is seaworthy and has her engines in good order. As a matter of fact, you cannot have either of these two things without the other. If the ships keep on having collisions they will not remain seaworthy very long. On the other hand, if their steering gears are out of order they will not be able to avoid collisions. Or, if you like, think of humanity as a band playing a tune. To get a good result, you need two things. Each player’s individual instrument must be in tune and also each must come in at the right moment so as to combine with all the others.”<br> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/233f8b53d61cfcf41f5e112ee66dd19042b7d38d/small/img-1715.jpg?1437750863" class="size_s justify_left border_" />Sound check came and went. I did a quick restring of the main banjo. We are flying out this morning, and the bus I am on is staying out West, so I spent a bunch of time getting all my stuff together and putting it on the bus that is heading to Nashville. Sometimes I am a little overboard on bringing things to do – books, dvds, Vitamix blender, etcetera. In any case, it wasn’t too much stuff, and fit in half a bunk on the other bus. I marked all my bags of stuff with bright green duct tape and a big “RB” in Sharpie.<br> <br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/473153535773385d32eb58d695f85515b5bdc94b/small/img-1714.jpg?1437750856" class="size_s justify_left border_" />I met with Josh, my manager, and we talked about some aspects of what we’ll do with the new bluegrass instrumental record. After dinner, I was going through email and got really sleepy – that kind of sleepy that is nearly irresistible. I fell asleep until I heard Barry talking to Willie’s road manager and realized I had a half hour before the show, which gave me just enough time to make green tea, get dressed, and tune.<br><br><br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/ae75c576eb523bead447145099cbb024fe4250e5/small/img-1711.jpg?1437750854" class="size_s justify_left border_" />I always love leaving a tour on a high note, a show where I felt we played well, and last night was one of those nights. The air was cool and clear, the sound was good, the audience appreciative. We had to leave early to go to the airport hotel, so we missed most of Willie’s show.<br> <br>I had family at the show, so I met with them for a too-brief visit immediately after our show. My stepsister Della, one of my Smartville family, was there, along with my cousins Jeff and Larry and their wives, and a second cousin, Crystal, and we talked right up until I had to go grab my things from the dressing room and head to the bus. It was a great night. I was glad to have Ethan there seeing family he hasn’t seen since he was a young boy. It’s been great having him along on this last leg of the tour.<br> <br>I’m grateful for being able to play in AKUS all these years. Many thanks to Chris, Mike, Michael B, Alex P, Alex B, Sean, Garrett, and Gabe for their hard work and excellence in setup, sound, and management, and to Van, Paul, and Tom for getting us and our gear safely down the road. Thanks to Willie and all his band and crew and management for having us. And thanks to all of you who came out to the shows. We had a blast.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/cd68ac51e1fbbae440d72bf95b4ed7b12209d569/small/img-1710.jpg?1437750843" class="size_s justify_left border_" />It’s time to switch gears. Today is the beginning of the end of the production of the bluegrass instrumental record. Ethan and I fly down to Ontario, California, where Eric Uglum will pick us up and take us to his house and studio to mix Hogan’s House of Music in the next four days. After that, my wife and daughter fly out and we visit my Dad and stepmom and siblings for a few days. Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37881722015-07-23T04:07:33-05:002017-01-10T07:08:19-06:00Stories from the Road (Santa Barbara)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/1ce1ec6a80a86207d4f41f362bf4bd9afe5ed6a0/medium/img-1684-version-2.jpg?1437642096" class="size_m justify_left border_" />Today I didn’t wake up at the venue. We were out in the central California countryside, down a dirt road, overlooking miles of short brown grasses, blue skies, and oak trees bent and gnarled like 200 year-old men. I had forgotten Alison was going to visit some friends; she had asked if I wanted to come along and bring Ethan, and it had sounded intriguing, but I had declined due to having a lot to do – credits and such for the upcoming bluegrass instrumental record, more content for the website, and learning the John Jorgensen material.<br> <br>All was well with my plan until I met this couple. They were genuine, bright, warm, intelligent, and hospitable. I liked them immediately, and they asked us all – myself, Ethan, Sean, and Van - to come to breakfast inside as well as Alison. Sean and Van had to get back to the venue, but something inside me pushed me to stay, and I’m glad I did.<br> <br>Breakfast was spectacular, including but not limited to scrambled eggs, bacon, frittata, fresh ciabatta, berries, and a dish made of oatmeal, milk, coconut water, and peaches, with a main dish of bright and interesting conversation. When we’d finished, we met their young son and headed out for a drive on the property to do some target shooting.<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/18f65c988b023bff860a0664e0ca4ba121ec1349/small/img-8566-version-2.jpg?1437642107" class="size_s justify_left border_" /><br>Ethan was driving the ATV with me as his passenger, and everyone else was in the truck.<br><br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/e3db2006e0cc62bbd2cf3e571897ee97ccbc024b/small/img-8589.jpg?1437642115" class="size_s justify_left border_" /><br>After a brief drive we came to the target they’d set up on a dusty hillside, loaded up, and shot guns for about an hour. <br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/09104fa3d64490e5074347d92a0195a411075276/small/img-1688.jpg?1437642097" class="size_s justify_left border_" />The next stop was the stables, where their hired man, Adam, was saddling horses for us to ride. After ten or fifteen minutes we were ready to go; he let me ride his horse, which was more spirited, and led the way on another. I found Adam interesting to talk to; he spoke of Plato, and Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington, and the history of the area, with the Californios and the Chumash and priests hiding gold. <br><br>There is something solid and fundamental about riding horseback. Back in my younger days when visiting the ranch of my in-laws, I spent time nearly every day riding. The breeze in your hair, the sun on your face and arms, the smell of a horse, and dirt, and oaks - all these sensory realities begin to calm and hush the thinking, the worries and cares begin to fade, and all that is left is the flat, still pool of the mind with no rocks being thrown into it because it is simply paying attention to the present moment. <br><br>The ride lasted about an hour, but the unhurried pace continued in me for the rest of the day. We rode back up to the stables and dismounted, then drove to the house for lunch, including but not limited to carne asada, fresh tortillas, fresh avocado, cilantro, and jalapeños sliced lengthwise, tomatillo/avocado salsa, and two other kinds of salsa, and roasted peppers. <br><br>They drove us back to the venue and dropped us off. I played my Tele banjo for awhile to warm up, got ready for the show, made green tea, iced, and headed to the stage.<br><br>The show cruised right along and before long we were at the medley with Willie. This was the next to last show – the Berkeley show is tomorrow night. Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37858882015-07-22T02:14:19-05:002017-01-10T07:08:19-06:00Stories from the Road (Paso Robles)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/fcffed6f99cd92f2bf81982e911aec84202fd24f/medium/img-1653.jpg?1437549175" class="size_m justify_left border_" />I did my usual wake-up-for-no-reason at 4:30am and laid there awake for an hour. You know how sometimes your brain kicks in right away? Mine does that a lot. I decided in the end to read George MacDonald. MacDonald was a Scottish writer who lived from 1824 to 1905, and he wrote novels about characters who were often in some form of spiritual struggle, books and stories for children, theology, and poetry. One would have to go a long way to get to the bottom of George MacDonald.<br><br><br><br><br>He was one of the early fantasy literature pioneers – C.S. Lewis said of reading MacDonald’s book Phantastes, “I knew that I had crossed a great frontier.” <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/56add0c28caa68d80696f1736b819dcd0fbde381/small/iu.jpeg?1437549180" class="size_s justify_left border_" />MacDonald’s works were also a big influence on G.K. Chesterton, J.R.R. Tolkien, Oswald Chambers. Madeleine L’Engle, and E. Nesbit, among many others.<br> <br>In any case, George was good reading for awhile, and then I got sleepy again and went out.<br> <br>I woke up, made hot chocolate because it was Tuesday, played my guitar in the hotel room for awhile, then did a short songwriting session via Skype with Rebecca Reynolds. I wasn’t all that stellar but we got a basic idea, feel, and direction, and she’ll write the words with a form in mind and I’ll put more melody to it later.<br> <br>One of our buses left the hotel at 8:30am, and some of us – Alison, Barry, Dan, Jerry, me, and Ethan – departed on the second bus for the Vina Robles Ampitheatre at around noon. The scenery around here reminds me of the Simi Valley, where they shot Little House on the Prairie – tall brown grasses, and dusty oaks. It also feels like the area around Smartville, up north, but the weather here is much more moderate in temperature.<br> <br>We headed inside to catering and had lunch. Today was another day with my own dressing room, so we set up our laptops. I had received a text from John Jorgenson about some upcoming dates – he had sent me material, so after acknowledging receipt I set to listening and learning a few of the tunes on my Tele banjo.<br> <br>Show time came, and the weather wasn’t overly hot. It really cooled by the end of our show. Willie’s show was good – I stood back and watched him play guitar, so quirky, but nimble, and soulful. I didn’t realize how far along the show was, and I walked back to the dressing room with Ethan for a few minutes and didn’t make it back in time to sing on the medley.<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/fb46ad643473b9054c67d870019ad36bf4d7676f/medium/img-1656.jpg?1437549178" class="size_m justify_left border_" /> <div>
<br>I’m back on the bus; bus call isn’t until 2am, but I’ll be in bed long before that. I have been too tired lately, and my focus on practicing has been a little off. It’s time to change some things I’m doing. I remember reading the Little House on the Prairie books as a kid and Pa saying, “If you don’t like the results you’re getting, change something.”<br> </div>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37852062015-07-20T22:30:51-05:002020-07-27T21:51:46-05:00Stories from the Road (Day off in Ventura, Paso Robles)<div> </div><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/d09ba10e0df5e65357d3c07864955437c51822e8/medium/img-1631-version-2.jpg?1437449078" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" />Today was a day off. I woke up in Ventura, near the beach, and went with Ethan and Alison to meet a man who is one of the best in the field of making gear that translates the actual sound of an instrument (voice, guitar, or anything else) into a recording. When it comes to microphones, digital converters, compressors, equalizers, all gear is not created equal. There is bad, good, better, and best – the sound of the instrument is touched by the microphone, the compression, the equalizer, the converters, before it gets recorded, and if those components have dirty hands they can change the feel and sound of what a guitar really sounds like when you stand next to it. In reality, all recording does this – but the best gear translates as accurately as possible. <br> <br>He not only spoke of tone, but also of responsiveness, and I likened it to playing one of my good guitars and then picking up my 1938 Martin D28. The responsiveness that guitar has is much more about touch and feel than about tone. <br> <br>So – I learned that gear has the same continuum of responsiveness. I’d never really thought about it. But in thinking of it, the principle is true across the board. Responsiveness, transparency, mirroring the music that is coming off the instrument - these things are truly important for a recording engineer, a house sound engineer, musicians, or just life in general. The dirty lens captures a distorted picture. False or distorted perceptions create a false or distorted life. <br> <br>He said a lot of other things, showed schematics that revealed the technical process, but to me his real talent went beyond mere knowledge and was shown by an incredibly sensitive and intuitive way of interpreting sound, and using his knowledge and wisdom to better the means of recording.<br> <br>The conversation had me thinking later about application – about that drive to create, to excel, to better one’s playing, clarify one’s focus, build one’s character.<br> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/ea6e89541f92ae203beedb842ea7438636671182/small/img-1622-version-2.jpg?1437449079" class="size_s justify_left border_" />Afterwards Ethan and I went back to the bus, which was several blocks away, and got his swim trunks and a towel, then headed to the beach. I didn’t have any, so I stayed dressed in my jeans and shirt, but while I was standing there watching him rush into the waves and body surf I was wondering why in the heck I didn’t leave my wallet and iPhone on the bus so I could get wet, clothes and all. I did roll up my jeans to above my knees to get my feet wet. The feel of wet sand on the feet, and cold, white-foamed waves hitting the shins, the smell of the salt breeze, with the white gulls calling and flying and diving overhead – the Pacific Ocean is always a restful experience.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/c64149ff6d6c372203ccd5fb72a720cdacee888d/small/img-1637.jpg?1437449085" class="size_s justify_left border_" />After that we headed to Whole Foods in Santa Barbara, grabbed food and supplies, and then drove to Paso Robles for the show tomorrow. The drive was sweet – the 101 has a lot of ocean views. <br><br>We drove up to the hotel, Ethan and I got the keys Sean had waiting for us, and went in. I brought a lot of stuff, too much – guitar, Tele banjo, several books, and a couple of dvds. We’ll watch a movie in a bit, thinking of an older time travel movie called Frequency, and try to go to bed at a decent hour. <div>
<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/fbddc559d732d3e47ea5412a58fe38b6ecca5342/small/img-1572-version-2.jpg?1437449325" class="size_s justify_left border_" /><br>Also, I’m reading a book right now called The Practice of Practice, so that is fomenting in my brain lately. It’s got short, tight little chapters with good thoughts.</div>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37836842015-07-20T00:12:37-05:002017-01-10T07:08:18-06:00Stories from the Road (Costa Mesa)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/8dc07bf92b7510a3e2ebe9672ba3ab7049459b41/medium/img-1602.jpg?1437368956" class="size_m justify_left border_" />After a sufficient night of rest I woke up on the bus parked at the fairgrounds here in Costa Mesa. I decided to make hot chocolate since I don’t make it very often. I can quit anytime. When Ethan and I headed to catering, we were glad to find them making omelets (spinach, red pepper, green pepper, tomato, Serrano peppers, salsa, and guacamole) and even better they had a juicer. After falling-to upon our late morning repast of nature’s comestibles, we headed into the fair.<br> <br>We bought a couple of treats – chocolate-dipped ice cream for Ethan, and a frozen dipped banana for me. The banana was a complete failure in regard to flavor; my taste buds seemed briefly sucked into a vortex. I tasted no chocolate, no nuts, and no banana. It may as well have been damp, frozen cardboard. I chewed a few bites and tossed it.<br> <br>We hit the sales hall, which had some interesting and useful things. In spots, though, it reminded me of George Carlin saying, “If you nail together two things that have never been nailed together before, some schmuck will buy it from you.” There were “free” resort vacations (contingent upon having one’s mind boiled to jelly by a two-hour presentation on why one should buy into the timeshare), smokeless grills that sat on top of the stove, green plastic things that made weird noises, a candy seller with a gigantic taffy pulling machine (we bought English Toffee), and the Vitamix display. Of course we stopped there, as I am a longtime Vitamix owner (I have two), and the salesman made a tasty sorbet out of banana and agave as a base, blended with frozen pineapple and ice, which beat the frozen banana hands-down for flavor like the tortoise and the hare.<br> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/4c9936601c83499c2bbb07825f21d208c3fc40e4/medium/img-1604.jpg?1437353276" class="size_m justify_left border_" />One of my favorite things about a fair is getting to see the things people create. We went into the woodworking hall, and I was pleasantly surprised to find quite a few instruments; there were classical, acoustic, and archtop guitars, a banjo, and a couple hammered dulcimers. Most of the work in that hall had won awards, so it was mostly high-level craftsmanship. The attention to detail was exquisite. There was a full-sized wooden kayak on display; although it was likely a real kayak, usable in the water, there is no way one would take a piece of art like that to bang and dent it in a river. In the corner sat a carved stump, with a three-dimensional cross on top, and a wooden chain meticulously carved, and on each link of the chain were named various sins. The chain was broken by the cross.<br> <br>Sound check was easy, and since rain was on its way we went through it quickly.<br> <br>About an hour out from the show the rain had stopped, but radar showed it coming again around 7:30pm, starting time for our segment of the show. Unfortunately the venue did not have rain protection over the stage, only a sunshade, so the rain was coming down directly upon anything uncovered on stage. The local crew were squeegeeing the puddles of water off the edge, and just before the show our crew set everything up to go as best they could as the rain began. We were dressed and had our ear monitors in, standing under shelter; just before we went on the entire show was called due to rain.<br><br>I had friends and family out there, Dad, my sister Jennie, her husband Glenn, and Eric Uglum and his wife Stacey and son Edwin (I’ll be at Eric’s studio to mix Hogan’s House of Music on Saturday). They were all soaked so we brought them back to the dressing room where we stood talking for a good hour. I had one conversation in particular about the longing we all have inside us that we try to fill with other things. C.S. Lewis said, "If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." We try to fill it with money, or relationships, or being good at our job, or any number of other things - drugs, alcohol, excessive television, etcetera. But we are trying to fill an infinite void with finite things, and it never ends up working out. <br><br>When everyone was leaving I handed Eric the hard drive with the new instrumental record on it so he could dump it onto his ProTools hard drive before I get there for mix. I'm looking forward to that!<br> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/8fa8c57cb64cf9680d9e433e7e72133b6fe268ab/medium/img-1598.jpg?1437353157" class="size_m justify_left border_" />In closing, I’ve had <a contents="Let's Go To The Fair" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSnl4aPZkkI" target="_blank"><span style="color:#800080;">Let's Go To The Fair</span></a> by Ralph Stanley going through my head all day:<br><br>Come on boys let's go to the fair<br>See the funny sights and the cool night air<br>Grasshopper kissing the old black crow<br>Road hog red do the dose-ee-doe<br> <br>More funny things than you ever did see<br>Ringtail coons monkeys in the trees<br>Pussy cat combing the tomcat's hair<br>Come on boys let's go to the fair<br> <br>Had a banjo picking rooster the cockiest of 'em all<br>Strutted on the stage in his bib overalls<br>Close behind was old fiddling bear<br>Bluegrass music by a rooster and a bear<br> <br>Old mother goose wore fancy clothes<br>High heeled slippers and fancy clothes<br>An old bare possum in his underwear<br>Killed himself a laughing at the county fair<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/3bd6fb3459ecf1e105c05bcd2bd4a28f8c96dd16/medium/img-1608.jpg?1437353294" class="size_m justify_left border_" />Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37831792015-07-19T02:32:21-05:002017-01-10T07:08:18-06:00Stories from the Road (Los Angeles, the Greek Theatre)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/0cbf6036911968eb951a1d3ae366ef6bd78c0524/medium/img-1590.jpg?1437291087" class="size_m justify_left border_" />In contrast with yesterday’s fortunate series of events, today was much more ordinary. It started with waking up way too early for no reason at all. I read for a bit, hopped out of my top bunk, drank a bottle of water, started the hot chocolate, and pulled my laptop out. I’ve got credits to finish up for the new bluegrass instrumental record, liner notes about each song, and other to-do items on the list, so I went through some of those for awhile.<div> <br>After a few hours I rustled Ethan out of his bunk to go inside the Greek Theatre and get some breakfast. There is an older woman who works at catering at the Greek who is quite the character, a feisty, strong, and kind Irish woman.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/c65960fae4feaa007586827fbd692fab6dc360bf/small/img-1585.jpg?1437290598" class="size_s justify_left border_" />I scored my own dressing room today, so Ethan and I spread out our work environments - for me, laptop, planner, a book on practicing, a journal, and the Tele banjo. For him, his laptop and sketchbook.<br> <br>It rained a bunch here today, unusual for this area, and the temperature was vastly different from yesterday’s show in Lincoln. In fact, every one of my instruments was tuned sharp today at sound check (heat causes expansion, cold causes contraction). I did some practicing on the Tele banjo, but I didn’t really have good energy due to my lack of sleep. My main banjo and guitar both needed a restringing, so I had Michael Bethancourt do the guitar, and I did the banjo.<br> <br>Just before the show I ran into T Bone Burnett and Bob Neuwirth, both of whom I had met nearly fifteen years ago during the O Brother soundtrack and Down from the Mountain tour – T Bone produced the soundtrack.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/e2c5528472481a36a62ba06895353b83379e0fff/small/img-1592.jpg?1437291091" class="size_s justify_left border_" />The show went well, a cool, humid night. I spent some of the time after our set with the band getting a photo with Willie and the venue folks, and then proceeded to visit with my sister, her husband, my brother, my cousin’s daughter and husband, and their friends for several hours. It’s just after midnight now, and I’m ready to pack up the stuff I’ve scattered on the dressing room counter and get to the bus. Bus call is at 2am because it’s only an hour to Costa Mesa. </div>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37825282015-07-18T03:01:34-05:002017-01-10T07:08:18-06:00Stories from the Road (Lincoln, Smartville, Auburn, Grass Valley)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/d74813327ebf619c146030d50fafb612258c1487/medium/img-1416.jpg?1437204053" class="size_m justify_left border_" />Yesterday my son Ethan flew with me to California. He’ll be with me on the rest of this tour. Today was a show day but since we were only an hour from Smartville, Grass Valley, and Auburn, I wanted to show him a little of the area where I lived from around 8 to 13 years of age. <br> <br>I rented a car early this morning, around 7:45am, and we set out from Lincoln towards I-80 and Highway 49. Just up from Auburn on 49 I saw the Bear River, and realized I had lived right there, at the juncture of the river and 49, at a little campground when I was around 12 or 13. I pulled in on the wrong side at first – there was no operational campground anymore, but soon figured it out. I pulled the white Chevy onto the dirt road just down from the river. The road went up a little steeply, and then I turned down a little lane as wide as the car and realized that was the little lane of the campground. The whole site was overgrown, dense with tall brown grass, burs, thorns, and especially blackberry bushes. My brother John and I used to eat them by the handful. <br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/047e066577312d1ee1051a4dcf9cb4d49b68da82/medium/img-8365-version-2.jpg?1437245632" class="size_m justify_left border_" />You could still see the some of the electrical and other hookups for the campers, peeking through the tall grass. The asphalt lane was still intact, though washed out sometimes on the edges. Near the river the lane made a circle back around to the lower part of the campground. We parked and got out. The second we opened the car doors I breathed in that air, the smell of river water rolling over rocks, of dry moss, of brown grasses, dusty oak trees, and blackberry bushes, and reddish dirt. It gave me chills down my back. It always strikes me how smells can call up such vivid memories and feelings. I saw decrepit picnic tables and remembered when they were in good condition, saw myself sitting on them at 12, playing guitar, reading books. <div>
<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/5ceedb7c6c557cb7f0d9fff8d86c3c8310340cb5/small/img-1409.jpg?1437205115" class="size_s justify_left border_" />The memory of living in a tent for three months by that river when money was tight came back to me. To an adult that sounds like a bad experience, but as a boy I was completely thrilled to live in a tent for months. and I pointed out the spot to Ethan; it was completely overgrown by blackberry bushes, and of course our next move was to eat several handfuls. They were sweeter and much more full of flavor than anything one gets at Costco or places like that. I like taking three or four ripe ones, almost black, and then one that has one unripe side about the color of a raspberry. It adds a sour tang to the sweetness.<br> <br>We continued on to Grass Valley and grabbed some food at a Starbucks. As we passed the Nevada County Fairgrounds, site of the Grass Valley bluegrass festival, I remembered going there with my mother around 1980, when I was around 15 or 16. I jammed and listened to the bands all weekend as she went along with me, and we slept in her orange Datsun B210 Friday and Saturday nights. <br> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/10e7b51792e70fee6ada8f39256ac355075c2950/small/img-1423-version-2.jpg?1437205134" class="size_s justify_left border_" />We drove down Highway 20 to Smartville, also known as Smartsville. When I lived there, one city limit sign said Smartville and the other one said Smartsville. They changed the name officially in 2008 to Smartsville, but I'll always call it Smartville (that's also the tune that kicks off the new instrumental record). We turned right and headed down the smooth curves of Mooney Flat Road. Off to the left not far down the road were the cliffs and a small lake where my brother John and I would go to fish for catfish. Hydraulic mining years ago had created the cliffs and dug the lake. At ten years old, we would walk up Mooney Flat Road about a mile, slip through the barbed wire fence, and take the deer trails to the lake.<br> <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/1ea4d1d753c46cc19fb1e09f6fdd98d91b4c0c0c/medium/img-8391.jpg?1437245791" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" />Ethan and I turned onto the street where I had lived, and I parked the car. I was amazed, as with the lane in the campground, at how narrow the street was – it was barely a driveway. There were the same five or six little houses, now in much worse shape but well-lived in, but also much smaller than I remembered. I took a few photos and drove down around the corner to Deer Creek bridge. From there I could see the sloping half-acre backyard we had that jutted right up against the creek, and the creek itself, full of huge boulders, gray, randomly wrinkled or smooth. We had played right under that bridge as boys, on the support that went right down into the creek.<br> <br>The thing I felt when I looked at all this was gratefulness. What I was grateful for, even though there were hard times and sometimes emotionally jagged experiences back then, was that there was so much good. The creek, the rocks, the trails through the dusty oaks, the buckeyes to throw, Englebright Lake, the swimming hole, the catfish lake – all of this was our playground. When we are young we don’t realize how our environment in those early years soaks into us, and shapes us, begins to form us into who we are meant to be.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/d1c9100d6a4066dc0648b10e571090816743a625/medium/img-8451.jpg?1437206593" class="size_m justify_left border_none" alt="" />We continued our drive up Mooney Flat Road to Englebright Marina. At 10 or 11 years old, I went to school with Mike Munro, whose parents owned or leased the Marina. I would come down there on my bike, riding the brakes all the way down that winding, steep road. On some days, when few people were on their boats, we would swim from houseboat to houseboat, dive off, swim to another. Or we would canoe, or fish. We once took some boating rope, that thin, nylon sort, I think it was white or yellow, and we were climbing a small cliff, probably 15 feet. I was foolishly wrapping the rope around my hand as I climbed, and as I got to the top I reached for a branch to pull myself up and loosened my grip on the rope just as the branch broke. I went all the way to the bottom as that rope whizzed around my hand and burned my outer layers of skin off. I still have a faint scar about the width of the rope.<br> <br>After seeing Englebright, both the marina and the dam, we headed back, returned the car, and walked into the hotel around 1:30pm.<br><br>Soundcheck was high temperature, to say the least. We didn’t stay out there long in the heat. The show went well despite the temperature, and it cooled off a little as we neared the end of our set.<br> <br>After our set I went with Ethan to visit with some extended family – my aunt, uncle, cousin and his wife, their three daughters, my niece, her mom, and her two grown daughters, and the daughter of my nephew, and her mom. I hadn’t seen some of them in years, so it was a beautiful time. The Willie medley came up so I hopped on out there with Barry and Jerry.<br> <br>This was an extremely full and rich day, and I’m really thankful I could experience it with Ethan. I’ll crawl into my bunk to do some reading to decompress a little. <br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/c352209eb2cc015c956c8efb9737846f8ea43bde/original/img-1546.jpg?1437205122" class="size_l justify_center border_" />
</div>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37747312015-07-12T01:09:46-05:002023-12-10T12:09:20-06:00Another incredible addition in the studio<p><span style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/5c68ad6259328b211189e9d89d42fddffbe314cd/original/20401-916084465106669-3882910637127288221-n.jpg?1436681347" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Today Alison Krauss put down twin fiddle parts to Stuart Duncan on two tunes - a traditional old-time tune, and an original called Mooney Flat Road. I’m thankful to have been a part of Alison Krauss and Union Station for 25 years. Beautiful work, Alison!</span></p>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37666222015-07-06T00:32:29-05:002020-08-24T14:03:01-05:00Last day at Southern Ground <p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/6ca68a478069c461a10d0dfd1f126b58603073ba/original/11665642-911612432220539-5886609376635274201-n.jpg?1436160737" class="size_l justify_center border_" />It was the fourth great day at Southern Ground’s studio, the last session for the new bluegrass instrumental record, "Hogan’s House of Music". </p>
<p style="margin: 6px 0px; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Brandon Bell did a great job with the tones. Dan Tyminski, Sierra Hull, and Mark Fain were great. </p>
<p style="margin: 6px 0px; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">We cut three tunes – a new 6/8 instrumental, a Stephen Foster tune, and an old fiddle tune recorded with just mandolin and banjo. </p>
<div class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px;">This brings us to a total of 18 tunes, a mix of old instrumentals and new. 13-14 will be selected for the record. The record is shaping up - Dan Tyminski, Sierra Hull, Mark Fain, Barry Bales, Byron House, Sam Bush, Stuart Duncan, Adam Steffey, Clay Hess, Jerry Douglas, Rob Ickes, Lynn Williams, and Alison Krauss all contributing.</p></div>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37575732015-06-28T01:28:12-05:002017-01-10T07:08:17-06:00Stories from the Road (Redmond, WA)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/2127feea9016ff345d3247a757ce470d3f501605/original/img-6516.jpg?1435472874" class="size_l justify_center border_" />I woke up at Marymoor Park in Redmond. Last night I had thought I would go to bed early, but Barry, Jerry, and Kevin (Willie’s bassist) were discussing music, and specifically great bassists, and using a pick, and using fingers, so I sat and listened for a while. Alex was there for a bit, Michael too. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We broke it up and headed to the buses, where I talked with Michael for a few minutes. I headed to my bunk and slept. Woke up around 4am with an odd dream about ferrets running about, read Chesterton for awhile, and slept till 9am. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The first thing I did was ask Sean about laundry. He said to bring it, so I loaded it in my canvas bag and brought it. Fluff and fold, ready by 7pm. I figured I’d leave it all clean on the bus for the next trip in two weeks.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I drank my chocolate and headed over to catering. The dressing rooms and catering here are a pleasant and peaceful walk through huge, thick trees to Clise Mansion, built in the early 1900s by a Seattle banker to use as a country estate and a farm for his Morgan horses and Scottish Ayrshire cattle. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Fresh omelets were on the menu. I ate my poultry-fruit comestibles, took the laptop and Tele banjo to one of the dressing rooms, not yet labeled because it was early in the day, and went out for a walk. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The morning here was cool, in the shade at least, and clear, and smelled like pines, and dirt, and clean, dry air. Outdoor smells often trigger memories for me. I suddenly remembered being in my late teens and early twenties at the Grass Valley festival in northern California, though the pines are much thicker there. My mom took me once, when I was visiting her in Reno at about sixteen. We drove down Friday, I jammed till the wee hours, and then we slept in her Datsun B210. We stayed Saturday, listened to the bands, slept in her car again, and left late Sunday. She walked around with me to jams for hours and listened. I think that was maybe 1980 or 1981. I remember us especially loving the Whites with Ricky Skaggs and Jerry Douglas. That was my mother. She had an adventurous, wandering spirit that never got quite enough of traveling. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Popping out of my reverie to the actual world in front of me, I headed back in to my commandeered dressing room for a bit until it was required by the designated occupant, and hopped upstairs to the Union Station room. Fortunately there were two small rooms adjacent to the big room, so I set up in there.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Guitar first. I reviewed the Haggard solos again, then started in on learning more of the Texas Troubadours tune for about an hour. Jerry came in and we sat and talked for a short while. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Sound check came. I kicked off Gonna Settle Down by Flatt & Scruggs and the rest of them followed suit. Quick and easy, plus it wasn’t nearly as hot today. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I headed back down the dampened chipped wood path to the mansion, hopped upstairs to my dressing room, and got out the Telecaster banjo. I’m thinking of recording a more country-ish ballad or two on the bluegrass instrumental record, so I played through some songs that might work. Then I rolled quite a bit to warm up for the show. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Showtime came. It felt good to play. Lately my right hand has been feeling great; I’m going for slightly more extension in my picking fingers, which helps keep the hand relaxed, and it is making a big difference in both volume and tone. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We drove out of Marymoor as Willie was playing; some of us have early flights out in the morning, so we’re near the airport at a hotel. Looks like I’ve got more Eugene Peterson and Chesterton coming up in the next hour.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37568212015-06-27T01:08:14-05:002017-01-10T07:08:17-06:00Stories from the Road (Troutdale, OR)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/fb73b87e1e503b63e1c35e17c0364f71ea403265/original/img-6503.jpg?1435385240" class="size_l justify_center border_" />I woke early and read Chesterton for awhile. He has such a high regard for maintaining a childlike sense of wonder about the world. It’s infectious. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I hit catering intent upon not overdoing it today and had a scramble with salsa and got out of there.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">This venue, Edgefield, had a seventy-year history as a poor farm. It kept a wide variety of people – everyone from musicians to loggers, teachers to sea captains, people of nearly every ethnic group and religion. It closed as a poor farm in 1982. Two brothers turned it into a winery, added a brewery, a pub, theater, and spa, among other things. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I found a dressing room empty and commandeered it, waiting all day for a notification of eviction from the lawful possessor. But it never happened. Guitar time was taken up with starting a new song and then working on a Texas Troubadour’s tune, and refreshing again on the Merle Haggard tune I’d worked on a few days ago. I switched to banjo and played it briefly, and then had to switch to finding a different day for recording in early July with Dan Tyminski, Sierra Hull, and Mark Fain. When the dust settled again on that I went out to the bus, instead of hitting catering for lunch, and made a green smoothie. Almond milk, protein powder, raspberries, frozen mango, baby kale. I would say people sometimes consider me “eccentric” (insert favorite term for “weird freak”) but I feel better when I stick closer to eating food like that. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">When I came back to the dressing room, Jerry was setting up to do an interview in the next room, so I quieted down. I talked to my manager Josh for a bit about details I need to be preparing for the cd insert and cover, content on the website, and upcoming events.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">It was nearly sound check anyway. I popped out onto the heat of the stage. The crew wasn’t quite ready, still setting out the rug and mics and pedalboards. Dan and I stood there and played some tunes on mandolin and guitar and watched them set up. Finished with that, I got out my banjo and warmed up. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The sun was directly the front half of the stage, and heat was radiating from the stage, the mic stands, the pedalboards – everything. It was Dan T’s Inferno. I hoped the trajectory of the sun would bring it behind the trees somewhat before show time. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We didn’t play much, just some of the first song and a little bit of Down the Road, and then I went up to the main building, the spa, to shower. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">It was an early show, with not much time after dinner at catering (which was excellent). I made Tazo green iced tea and dressed and went to the stage, tuned the main banjo and guitar and realized I’d left my ’38 D28 on the bus (I use it for the encore songs – it doesn’t have a pickup installed, and won’t). </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We played the set – it went well; the band felt tight and on top of things in spite of the heat. Willie sounded great, and we went out for the medley songs again. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I’m winding down now and I’ll think I’ll take an early bedtime. Nighttime reading: I’ll set Chesterton aside for now and read Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37552482015-06-26T00:29:40-05:002017-01-10T07:08:17-06:00Stories from the Road (Bend, OR)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/0ef8aeea97b797be319c3c70bd2da1735c68eed7/original/img-6453.jpg?1435296542" class="size_l justify_center border_" />I woke up too early. You know how your mind clicks to “On” sometimes and won’t shut its yammer. I usually focus it on reading until I get sleepy and thinking in one direction instead of ten. I’ve been reading Chesterton’s Tremendous Trifles, short essays he wrote for the newspapers back in the early 1900s. His is a mind that sees so many connections between things, so many patterns and symbols in what we think ordinary and mundane. His sense of humor had me laughing in the bunk. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I read until I was sleepy again and slept too late, around 9:30am. I was supposed to kayak at this venue here in Bend with Maldwyn because it is right on the Deschutes River, but it was so late, and today was an early sound check (2pm instead of 3:30 or 4) and early show (6:30pm instead of an hour later). </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Hot chocolate, then lunch at catering. Sound check was pushed back to 3pm. Maldwyn and I decided to go kayaking after; the venue had an inflatable two-seater sitting right there. Playing Tele banjo seemed a sensible option, so I took the bait and opened Logic to play along with a couple tracks I had made. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Before sound check I was talking to the runner, a young man named Alex, about taking us upriver afterwards. I asked him where he was from, and he said “Georgia.” His father had taken him on many fly fishing trips as a child and in his teens, just the two of them, and one of those trips was to this area around Bend when Alex was twelve years old. He thought then, “I could live here.” So, it turns out, in his mid-twenties (I think) he moved here. It made me think about the power we have as fathers over our children, the power to name them with various names, not merely by saying words to them but by our actions, by spending time with them, by teaching them, by listening to their dreams, hopes, and fears. We fathers brand them with their identities. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Anyway, Alex seemed to have a good level of confidence, not that false, over-manly veneer of confidence that hides insecurity, but the real thing that comes from being well-loved by a father and mother. He inspired me today to begin planning some trips with the family and the fishing kayaks (I have four and a trailer) in late summer and early fall. I am thinking primarily of Tennessee lakes and rivers: Fall Creek Falls, Dale Hollow Lake, maybe a ride down the Harpeth River, and whitewater rafting on one of the rivers near Chattanooga.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">After sound check I went on the tandem kayak with Maldwyn and we spent about an hour on the water. There were a lot of folks out there today on every sort of flotation device: kayaks, boards, tubes, and I even saw a pair of inflatable Orcas. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I made iced Tazo green tea right before we played our set. The sun was out, but more at our backs, and it wasn’t too hot, at least for me. The audience was a good one, listening, appreciative. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Willie’s set came, and I wrote most of this journal listening, then popped out for the medley. Singing on that is always a good time. Went back to the dressing room and got back into my everyday clothes, gathered up my stuff and the daily strawberries, blueberries, kale, and a pint of half and half from the fridge backstage. Then I talked to Mike (monitor engineer) about the sound in my ear monitors – what instruments were loud, too soft, etcetera. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I’m back on the bus finishing this journal while the crew is loading all the gear into the trucks. Our bus call time is 2am but I hope to be living large in dreamland long before then. Tomorrow I want to play a lot more guitar during the day. The last two days I’ve spent much more time on the Telecaster banjo.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">There are two days left on this leg of the tour, then a flight home after Redmond, Washington. Stuart Duncan comes to the studio to play on eight or so songs on the bluegrass instrumental record, so I am thrilled about that. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Bedtime reading: G.K. Chesterton’s Tremendous Trifles and Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37539702015-06-25T01:02:24-05:002017-01-10T07:08:17-06:00Stories from the Road (Jacksonville, OR)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/ee0b3e2f816fca4f4bc5a5c47b43df51cf28a99e/original/img-6423.jpg?1435212133" class="size_l justify_center border_" />We pulled up to the Britt Pavilion around 12:30pm. We’ve played here many times before, usually in the summer like this, and today was hot and sleepy. I grabbed some lunch, ate with Van, our driver, and then sat with Jerry and Michael Bethancourt (instrument tech). We talked a bit about current issues, and Michael showed me the opening clip of The Newsroom with Jeff Bridges, which I’d never seen and enjoyed immensely.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Jerry and I, with Mickey Raphael (Willie’s harmonica player), headed to the shops a few streets below, a quaint little section of town. We went to a kitchen store where I wanted to buy eight of every ten things I saw, so I bought one thing and came back to the venue, still sleepy, so I got some green tea and iced it. The Tazo Zen green tea is great iced, by the way, even better with a little shot of lemonade.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Sound check was just a line check – plug in guitars, make sure they are on and sound good. Play banjo for a second. The sun was pouring himself onto the stage, so it felt like being on Venus.</span><br><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I fell asleep and woke up to Jerry taking a picture of me. He has that special effects app where he can make the gigantic rock fall on you or the rocket explode you to bits. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Maldwyn, from the crew, is a whiz at Logic Pro, Apple’s recording/loop/midi software. Watching him create songs has been making me want to get it, so today I downloaded it backstage. Within minutes I had set up a groove in C and was playing the Telecaster banjo along with it. I had to ask Maldwyn for help once – I need him to give me a lesson in it. I can see several things I’ll love about this software, whether on the road or at home:</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">1.It’s a good practice tool for exploring tonalities and at the same time grooving with the good timing. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">2.Songwriting. Put down a shaker and play along on guitar to experiment. Or mess around with loops and midi to create a song structure. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">3.Recording myself with a click as a practice tool.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">4.Making good song demos. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The show went well – the sun was behind the trees, and there was a little cloud cover. I was still a bit sleepy, just not myself, so I made another Tazo iced green tea for the show. That perked me up. We’ve had to shorten the show a bit, take a few things out, because we need to stick to 75 minutes. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I missed some of Willie’s set because I was writing this and then messing around with Logic Pro. I joined his medley just in time with Barry and Jerry and finished it out. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I’m really feeling the need to read more of Eugene Peterson’s book tonight. I’ll try to lay off the new software. I’m also lacking a solid sense of Chesterton, so I’ll read a chapter from Tremendous Trifles.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37526872015-06-24T01:23:41-05:002017-01-10T07:08:17-06:00Stories from the Road (Medford, OR)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/9e9ef6ed9fc6aa06af8707d5c61ca6e4f1108588/original/img-6408.jpg?1435127012" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Today was a rare occurrence, a rafting trip on the day off and a perfect day for it. Willie’s manager John put the whole thing together, and most of our band and crew went on the trip along with some of Willie’s bunch. Two vans drove us to the starting site on the Rogue River about an hour from Medford, Oregon. There were at least fifteen of us using three rafts, a double kayak, and a single kayak. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">This part of the river country had rugged cliffs and crags, steep mountainsides, smooth flat rocks for skipping, deep blue skies, and slightly cold water. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Nearly all my growing up years were around water of some kind. Pools, early on. At seven years old, Deer Creek, the Feather River, the Yuba River, and Englebright Lake near Smartville, California. At eleven or so it was Bear Creek in Auburn, California and the lake at my aunt and uncle’s house in nearby Meadow Vista. After thirteen it was waterskiing at Lake Shasta, Lake Elsinore, and other California lakes, and Lake Havasu in Arizona. I also lived by the ocean from thirteen to twenty-one. I’ve always loved water.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">On this ride today none of the rapids were serious, but they got us wet enough to stay cool. One of the guys flipped over a kayak, but other than that everything was fairly peaceful. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We went about maybe halfway and stopped for lunch. Travis, Jeff, and Jeff, the guides, whipped out folding tables and coolers from the rafts and set up a sandwich bar.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">After starting again we came to some high rocks where other rafters were jumping. Maldwyn, one of our more adventurous souls, made two spectacular leaps from the cliffs into the water. It was about like jumping off a three-story building, maybe 25-30 feet. Some of our other crew guys made the leap as well. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Later, as we were winding through steep hills on either side, Maldwyn said it reminded him of the Fellowship in Lord of the Rings going down the River Anduin. I concurred.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">About four hours later we pulled off the river onto a ramp, thanked our most excellent guides, and got back into the vans to the hotel, wet, sunned, and (for my part) sleepy.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">It’s rare on the road but always beautiful to do something together that has nothing to do with work.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We covered about seven miles, all told. There wasn’t much music happening today, just a couple of Deliverance references out on the river. I’m back at the room on the Telecaster banjo.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37514382015-06-23T04:16:06-05:002017-01-10T07:08:17-06:00Stories from the Road (Saratoga, CA)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/9e77f68521a80b67065e5430b46f596afdde439c/original/img-6376.jpg?1435050955" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Sleep ended too early for me this morning at the Cupertino hotel, so I read and eventually slept again. Got up a bit later than I’d intended, so dry I drank a bottle of water and a watermelon juice I’d bought the day before. At around 11am I was still ravenously thirsty and walked to Whole Wallet Foods again. Ordered a green juice and bought two more, and a couple other items. When I got back at 11:40am the bus was parked out front and I stuck the bag on it and hurried inside – I’d still not showered, though I’d packed nearly everything. Got back to the bus right at noon, still exceptionally thirsty, drank a green juice, and we started for the venue. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The ride to Mountain Winery in Saratoga was on a winding, narrow road, rough and bumpy, with quite a drop on the left side. We met a truck coming down and he hesitated as if he expected us to back up. That was never going to happen, so he pulled off as far as he could on the right side. As he did so a van came breezing down past him and saw us, stopped, and pulled off. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The bus parking for the venue was a good way from the stage, up in their top parking lot. I could see the surrounding countryside and houses for miles. Golf carts shuttled us down to the stage area. I brought my guitar, Tele banjo, and laptop bag down there, but soon realized there was nowhere for me to set up and play without being annoying. Suddenly the realization hit me that there was an empty first-class dressing room on wheels up in the parking lot that I had just left behind, so they carted me and all my stuff back to the bus. My first move was to make hot chocolate. Almond milk, chocolate powder, stevia, coconut sugar in the milk foamer/heater. Turn it on. When warm, add coconut butter. Turn it on again. Two beeps, pour into Rabbit Room mug. Enjoy. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I set the laptop on the front lounge’s dinette table, popped open my gray Calton with the ’38 Martin D28 and started working on the steel and guitar solos for Haggard’s Swinging Doors. It is always mind-expanding to imitate other instruments and learn their solos on acoustic guitar or banjo. There are bends and slides a steel can do that are tough to replicate on an acoustic guitar with medium strings. But in attempting to do so, I learn things about the guitar, about my hands, about tension and relaxation, and about musicality – things I might never have noticed. I’ve done this with everything from Ray Charles piano solos to Benny Goodman clarinet or Bill Monroe mandolin solos. I may eventually forget the exact solo but the pathways this kind of learning opens up in my brain are highly beneficial.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">After my left hand fingers began to get sore from all the bending and sliding I was doing, I worked on my singing for awhile. It was good having a place completely away from people because I could make all the noise I wanted. My voice has felt tight lately, not pliable, so doing some exercises worked things out some. I felt better by the end and set about making Chai tea. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Dan came on the bus, so I quieted down. It was about time for my cousin Larry and his wife to arrive. They showed up via golf cart and we headed down to visit at the venue for awhile before sound check.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Sound check was uneventful. I did a banjo restring talking to Larry about the Fishman Aura, and he told me Fishman makes a midi guitar pickup - I’d love to try that out. I used to have a Roland midi pickup on my green 1983 Stratocaster Elite. I’d love to have another, if it tracked well - most of the ones I’ve tried have slightly slow response times. I did write I Give You To His Heart from the Prince of Egypt Nashville album on that green Strat using a Fender Rhodes sound.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Did a quick guitar restring before dinner on the Santa Cruz. Dinner was good. Spicy noodles, salad, and a lot of grilled oriental vegetables, and the great company of my cousin Larry, Christy, and my cousin Sudha. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I left them to get dressed and tune. Michael rolled my instruments out of that back room to just offstage, outside, in the cooler temperature, and I’m glad he did. The instruments all went sharp right before I tuned them instead of having it happen during the show. The smaller venue made it easier to hear the sound coming out of the speakers in front. The night was cool and clear and perfect, and the audience was appreciative. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I sat with my cousins, their spouses Christy and Chris, and Sudha’s son Nico and his friend to watch some of Willie’s set. Willie’s playing is so quirky. He just flies by the seat of his pants and makes it work. And his set is made up of so many well-known songs that he wrote, everything from Crazy to Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground. We went up and did our thing with Willie on his gospel medley, finished, I changed clothes and sat with my cousins in the catering room and we talked about everything from parenting to music to marriage. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We went downstairs and a golf cart driver took us back up the hill. We said goodbye to Sudha and Chris and Nico (his friend was already nearly asleep in the car). Larry and Christy and I talked some more, first about the stars (great app: Star Walk) and then about guitar playing (Larry is a guitarist as well). We traveled through melody, Lindsay Buckingham of Fleetwood Mac, James Burton, Roy Nichols, and how to play a memorable solo. We said goodbye there with the starry night sky overhead and the lights in valley below, and I came on the bus to write this journal and avoid eating very much pizza at all.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37499412015-06-22T01:18:20-05:002017-01-10T07:08:16-06:00Stories from the Road (Cupertino, CA)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/2afefd6c744f643cac9c8bb44bc2a4157d0a5565/original/img-6363.jpg?1434953890" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Last night I watched a bit of one of the Wolverine movies with Jerry, then went to my bunk. Wolverine is the modern sci-fi version of Clint Eastwood, and I always liked Clint Eastwood. I think it was about 1am before sleep hit. I woke up too early, around 6:30am, tried to go back to sleep but stayed awake, so I read a couple of Chesterton essays in Tremendous Trifles on my iPhone Kindle app. I’ve never read an author who is at the same time a humorist, a poet, a philosopher, a theologian, and so unreservedly human, through and through. C.S. Lewis is most of these at differing times, but Chesterton combines them continually. He is a poet writing prose. He makes me think thoughts that have never entered my head.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I popped out of bed to write some background for the upcoming banjo record, talking about influences, my musical history, instruments, and whatnot. It’s always thought-provoking to dig back into the past and see the roads that led us to this present moment. My road involves many people who saw potential in me, spoke into me, and gave me good information and musical influences. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The bus was still rolling at nearly 11am. We rolled through Reno, through Donner Pass, and down I-80 past my old stomping grounds – Auburn, Meadow Vista, and Highway 49 to Grass Valley. I lived in this area and lived a Huck Finn sort of life, fishing, hiking, swimming (but I did go to school) from around 1972-1977. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">People began moving about the bus, making food and coffee. I had already made my patented hot chocolate (I didn’t need it, just wanted it. I can quit anytime). Before that I drank water in which I put a green superfood powder. It tastes okay going down but the aftertaste is something less than enthralling. But as I’ve told my kids, “Not everything you eat has to be the best tasting thing you’ve ever had. Sometimes we need to eat things just for the nutrition. Otherwise it’s like never changing the oil in the car because ‘I don’t feel like it.’”</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We rolled through Sacramento and stopped for fuel. Van is a relentless driver, stopping only when necessary. As we came closer to San Jose, and Cupertino, our day’s destination, the topography changed to rolling, brownish-green hills, scattered palm trees, oaks, and scattered houses. California, my home state, has many beautiful areas. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Today is Father’s Day. My family had our celebration last Sunday because I was going on the road. I wouldn’t trade being a father to my kids for anything in this world. They’ve been huge sources of blessing, love, joy, and growth in my life. Some say marriage will knock a lot of the selfishness out of you, but fathering has a way of stomping out the embers and the various forms of spontaneous combustion that happen. The love and desire for their well-being grows bigger than love of one’s own self. I think that is why we are given a love for our children that is so fierce and passionate, unless something inside us has been so broken by our own upbringing that we cannot see beyond our own pain. Happy Father’s Day to all the fathers out there, first and foremost my own Dad. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The bus rolled on through San Jose and into Cupertino. I remember being here a couple of years at the Whole Foods and Fabio was there promoting a health product or a book. He looked Fabio.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We got to the hotel. The bus had to park ¾ of a mile away, so that meant gather up everything I might need and bring all in at once, which I did.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I went to Whole Foods, ostensibly to buy a juice but mainly to have a destination for my walking. Chocolate powder was one of the purchases. Target was on the way, and I had heard of this glue/rubber stuff they sell now called Sugru, from the U.K., and wanted to get some to try. Allegedly it is moldable for 30 minutes and then it begins to harden, and you can fix and modify all kinds of things with it. Look it up.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I spent some of the afternoon booking plane flights. After the tour ends in Berkeley on July 23rd, I’m flying with my son down to Ontario, California to mix Hogan’s House of Music, the new banjo record, with Eric Uglum at New Wine Studios. My wife and daughter fly in and we will visit my Dad and the rest of my family for a few days, and we’ll all fly home. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The guitar was out for a good hour or hour and a half, and I worked on learning on some solos from Merle Haggard records. It is always better to work on something one can’t do than to replay things one can already play. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">After that I had a sort of notion to go downstairs to see if any of the guys were in the restaurant, and I was correct. Chris and Mike were down there, and we solved one-third of the problems of the universe in an hour and a half. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">So here I am now, back at the room, with the day winding down. I may break out the Tele banjo for a bit, possibly catch up on some writing I’m supposed to do, and if there is time I can catch a movie. Bus call downstairs at 12pm to go to the venue – The Mountain Winery, in Saratoga. My cousins are coming tomorrow, haven’t seen them in too long.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"> Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37493642015-06-21T01:21:02-05:002021-09-11T13:04:19-05:00Stories from the Road (Salt Lake City, UT)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/7581773bc2ed7b15b39cecbb9fed859f8c0c6d56/original/img-6334.jpg?1434867644" class="size_l justify_center border_" />This is one of those days, infrequent on the Willie tour due to the amount of people, where I have my own dressing room. Now, to be clear, my job requires dedication to an instrument, namely the banjo, that can be inherently quite obnoxious. This is the primary reason I began bringing the Telecaster banjo out on the road. On a regular AKUS tour, Sean usually finds me a dressing room as I’ve asked, “As far away from people as it can be.” But even then, a banjo blasting Sunny Side of the Mountain three times in a row, solo to all ears, with Jimmy Martin in my headphones - this can become odious to bandmates. It could end in muttered threats, dark looks, or even a potential hanging, especially after 24 years in the band. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">So – I had my own room today, complete with water, strawberries, an orange, a banana, blueberries, tea, and even some kale. The question then became, “What do I do with this room?” </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">First, I set up. I brought in my guitar, my Tele banjo, and laptop bag. Laptop out - I use Garage Band, EZ Drummer, Amazing Slow Downer, and other tools on the laptop. Also on hand was The Art of Improvisation by T. Carl Whitmer, interesting book that I have neglected while making the new banjo record. I neglected it today again. Also Patterns for Improvisation by Oliver Nelson, which I did use. Both good warmup books to get my hands going on guitar and banjo. My leather planner is out, as is my little book in which I write down musical quotes and insights.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Now, optimally, the first thing I would do would be to make a schedule. But I didn’t do that today. Why, you ask? I have no idea, completely forgot to do it. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">First thing – I started writing another tune for the last session of the banjo record. Did that for about an hour or so. Got up, got water, walked around a bit, came back. Played guitar patterns for a while to get my hands pliable. Took a brief walk (it’s hot here in Salt Lake City). Drank the second half of yesterday’s smoothie. Ate a plate of salad. Then I was back at the room with a half hour before sound check. Some speed drills for the banjo, and then fingerpicking guitar with a drum machine. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Sound check was quick. “One Tear” was the bluegrass check, and we did a two-guitar song as well. We managed to finish before the sun hit us. The Bourgeois OM model guitar I use on Paper Airplane was having some problems tonally so we spent a little time checking and adjusting the Fishman Aura. My banjo was buzzy and somewhat nasal due to the low humidity and higher altitude; I adjusted the truss rod and loosened the head a bit. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The show was interesting. We took a left turn and did Cluck Old Hen, Down the Road, Freeborn Man, and quite a few more Dan songs. I had a blast playing that much banjo – I played banjo for nearly the entire set, with the exception of Let Me Touch You For Awhile and Restless. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">After our set I had a great time visiting with Eric Sopanen, who used to work for my Dad’s store, Hogan’s House of Music, in the late seventies and early eighties. We made sure he got out to see enough of Willie’s set. Willie’s guitar playing is really a beautiful touchstone to that earlier style of country guitar. Throw in some Django and Willie’s quirky take on all of it and you’ve got amazing guitar playing.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The Willie encore was fun tonight with Jerry playing some kind of newfangled electric dobro thing. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I’ve got my dressing room scattered with my stuff so I’d better pack it up. We’ve got a long drive tonight to California.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37488222015-06-20T00:11:03-05:002021-12-14T00:10:31-06:00Stories from the Road (Nampa, ID)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/04fff01a4ec6cd61a333bafa70326595d37235c5/original/img-6317.jpg?1434777029" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Last night in the room, after I played guitar and the Tele banjo, I watched Jupiter Ascending, a film by the Wachowski brothers (makers of The Matrix, etcetera). I liked it well enough, but found myself taking a break a couple of times. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Sleep was deep in the dark hotel room (thanks for curtains that close out all the light). I woke up, packed my stuff, and walked again a mile each way to Whole Foods for a juice and a couple other items.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The morning was sunny and warm already, and I pushed the pace due to our 12pm checkout and departure time for the venue. I saw Kirk again, the timeworn, bearded, older man, sitting near the same spot, but with a different, well-used cardboard sign: “Homeless.” As I approached him the story of the good Samaritan came into my mind, where a priest and a Levite both cross to the other side of the road to avoid dealing with an man who had been robbed and beaten. I said, “Hi, Kirk,” engaged briefly, and walked the next few blocks to Whole Foods thinking about how a homeless person ends up in that state, and how they continue in it. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">As I’ve gotten older I realize the answers aren’t always cut-and-dried; sometimes the polarizing answers of the hard-hearted “Stop Being a Loser and Get a Job” mindset or the bleeding-hearted “Let’s Perpetually Fund Irresponsibility and Laziness” don’t work. Sometimes people have real problems in their heart and thinking; circumstances which they maybe created, partially made, or didn’t create at all have led them to that spot, on the curb of the grocery store driveway in the heat, with a stained cardboard sign. Every human being knows how hard it can be to change our thinking, attitudes, and habits, especially if we are unaware change is possible.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I headed back to the hotel and ran up to the room just in time to clean up and get on the bus at 11:56am. It was seventeen miles to the venue in Nampa. Once again I found myself making hot chocolate on the bus. I don’t have a problem. I can quit anytime. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Lunch catering: Good Mexican food.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Sound check was uneventful except for the fun of playing “I Ain’t Broke But I’m Badly Bent” with Dan, Barry, and Jerry. Afterwards I restrung my main banjo with D’Addarios and talked to Alex from the crew. Instrument tech Michael Bethancourt bought a Yamaha version of a Leslie amp on Craigslist in one of the last towns, and Jerry was trying it out, so after I finished restringing I plugged my banjo into it and played a bit. It was fun but I don’t imagine using it with AKUS anytime soon. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Later I sat in the dressing room with Dan and Jerry for a bit while I restrung my ’38 Martin with Elixir Nanoweb mediums. There is always a very satisfying change in the responsiveness of the guitar and the clarity of the tone when I change the strings, especially if they’ve been on there for quite a few days.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Dinner catering: Italian. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I read a bit more of Bruce Lee’s book and found this quote meaningful in light of tonight’s show: “The great mistake is to anticipate the outcome of the engagement; you ought not to be thinking of whether it ends in victory or defeat. Let nature take its course, and your tools will strike at the right moment.” There is a freedom in letting go of the future and living in the present moment, where there is only the feel of fingers on strings, the sound of the band, the faces in the audience right in the moment. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The sun was burning hot as we went onstage to tune up, but I’ve seen worse. We all wore sunglasses. The banjo was ringing loud and clear out front. The sun went behind the trees for the last third of the show, and the temperature was perfect. During the encore I saw a woman singing along with Your Long Journey, wiping tears from her eyes as she sang. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">We had a break while Willie went on, and went out for the encore. It amazes me to see how many people sing along with his songs. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">After the show I went into the Union Station dressing room. Barry and Mickey Raphael (harmonica for Willie’s band) sat down and we had quite a good conversation about recording. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">It’s time to wind down. I’m feeling an early bedtime coming on, with maybe some reading. I’ve been working through a Eugene Peterson book, as well as Chesterton’s Tremendous Trifles.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37476382015-06-18T23:20:48-05:002019-03-07T18:04:13-06:00Stories from the Road (Boise, ID)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/69aeed644ca0130fe63f4baac1c6a3501607afbc/original/screen-shot-2015-06-18-at-11-17-23-pm.png?1434687611" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Today is a day off. I woke at 6am with an unsettling dream but eventually went back to sleep. Generally at home I get up between 6am and 7:30am, but on the road I often fall into a later schedule. After rolling out of the bunk and dressing, I made my usual high-quality home made hot chocolate. It wasn’t long before Sean, the tour manager, came in with hotel keys, so I gathered my laptop, books, and guitar and went inside. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Boise is sunny and warm today. I had noticed a Whole Foods on the day sheet Sean posted just inside the front lounge - a day sheet has essential information about the show, hotel, and other aspects of the day. Whole Foods was a mile each way. On the way there I had an interesting encounter with an older, time-worn man standing on the sidewalk named Kirk. He was holding a sign that said, “Visions of a burger.” </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I eventually made it to the store. Coconut butter, almond milk, green juice, and quite a few other items, including tonight’s dinner. I checked out and loaded it all into my empty backpack. There was a Trader Joe’s on the way back but my backpack was full and heavy, and it was getting hotter out. I hoofed it back to the hotel, breaking only a very mild sweat.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Made it back to the bus, put my groceries away, popped up to the room, played guitar for a bit, did a little songwriting, and did some guitar arpeggios. I’ve been reading some of a Bruce Lee book called The Tao of Jeet Kune Do, interesting stuff. I have a small journal I titled “Musical Quotes and Insights” and have found a lot in the Bruce Lee book to write down. For instance, "Art reaches its greatest peak when devoid of self-consciousness. Freedom discovers man the moment he loses concern over what impression he is making or about to make.” </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">It is always fascinating to me how the disciplines and insights from one area, say martial arts or sports or painting, can so easily translate into the world of the musician – but truth is truth, in no matter what form it comes, and truth is always applicable to life.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">It’s really been a bit of an unfocused day for me – I’m a little restless and ready to play some shows. Starting tomorrow we’ve at least got two in a row. I’ve not seen much of anyone today, talked to Alison a bit in the morning, saw Dan for a few minutes, and I saw Barry’s back as he was exiting the hotel and I was entering the elevator. It’s already 9:30pm – the day blew right by me. I’ll play a bit more guitar (quietly) and go get my Telecaster banjo from the bus in an hour. Maybe I’ll watch a movie later – I brought some BBC stuff with me, and also “An Intimate Lesson with Tony Rice” which is always a good bet.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37463982015-06-18T01:36:07-05:002017-01-10T07:08:16-06:00Stories from the Road (Missoula, MT)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/23842288aabbb73cb2f8e13e26c1cb277c979048/original/img-6289.jpg?1434609317" class="size_l justify_center border_" />It was a long drive last night for Van, the driver, especially since I played banjo (relatively quietly) for the first hour and a half. I climbed into the bunk at about 1am. A bus bunk is a wondrous thing, a dark, warm, quiet cocoon with AC and DC outlets, a pouch for sundry items, and a reading light. The bunk area has a door on either end, and when they are shut and the lights all off, the bunk is in nearly complete darkness. I climbed in, pulled the curtain, read a little G.K. Chesterton, put my phone on airplane mode, and went straightaway to dreamland. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">I slept fairly well, waking once as the bus swooned through the winding mountain bits of I-90 to Missoula, and woke again at the Doubletree hotel. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The venue was Ogren Park, a baseball field also used for concerts. The sun at sound check made me feel like a chicken leg under the heat lamp at KFC, but other than that everything went well. Showtime came quickly, and it went well. During our encore it was great to see so many people singing along, especially on When You Say Nothing At All, Whiskey Lullaby, and I Went Down to the River to Pray.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The crew did the set change and Willie’s show started. I always have fun watching him play guitar, so quirky and unique. At the end I went out to sing with Barry, Dan, and Alison on Willie’s gospel medley. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">The bus is rolling again, American Ninja on television as I write this. More Chesterton reading is in my immediate future. Tomorrow is a day off in Idaho.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37447512015-06-16T18:17:43-05:002017-01-10T07:08:16-06:00Stories from the Road (Rapid City, SD)<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/0a7e52338c96cba1e5fb7116e9f63eec1104f2bf/original/img-6278.jpg?1434496652" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Today is a day off again while the drivers sleep, this time in Rapid City. SD, about 40 minutes from Mount Rushmore. Got up, did some reading, made my daily homemade hot chocolate concoction (almond milk, raw chocolate powder, coconut butter, stevia, coconut sugar, cinnamon), and headed up to the cleanup room at the hotel to get ready for the day.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Our AKUS instrument tech Michael Bethancourt rented a van with Jerry Douglas and we squeezed in there with four of the other crew guys to head to Rushmore with Lyle Lovett singing away about Texas. I’d been to Rushmore years ago, during either the Down from the Mountain tour or Great High Mountain. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Jerry parked the van, and we all tumbled out and walked up the steps, taking a little time to stare at Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln. It was perfect weather - a few clouds to add highlights, eye-squinting sun, and the deep blue, sharp clarity of the western sky. But the smell of buffalo burgers and brats from a stand about fifteen feet away was a much greater magnet to our senses at the moment, so we ponied up and ordered lunch. </span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">After that we went closer to the kingly faces carved into the mountain and took photos. I wondered what it would have been like to have been standing on a scaffold hundreds of feet up, chiseling away the bits that didn’t look like George Washington.</span><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><br style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"><font color="#000000" face="Helvetica">I’m back at the hotel now and ready to get going on the Telecaster banjo and my ’38 Herringbone.</font><br><br><font color="#000000" face="Helvetica">(Pictured in photo are</font><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;"> some of the AKUS crew. </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Helvetica;">Chris-House Sound, Alex-Stage Manager, and Mike-Monitors)</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37433962015-06-15T20:21:09-05:002017-01-10T07:08:16-06:00Stories from the Road (Alton, IL)<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/65c2b578bb13af0753ea53bd9e18802ed3176c12/original/img-6266.jpg?1434417644" class="size_l justify_center border_" />It’s a good feeling to get rolling again this summer with Alison Krauss & Union Station.<br><br>We’ve played two shows of our own before the Willie Nelson tour begins, and had a beautiful time with the people of Alton, Illinois, including the Harman Family Bluegrass Band (Mike Harman used to play banjo with AKUS back in the late 1980s). <br><br>I spent Sunday back in Nashville with the family for an early Father’s Day, and now the band is headed west on a two-day bus ride to Missoula, Montana to start the Willie tour on Wednesday. <br><br>We drove last night from Nashville and spent much of today in Kansas City as the bus drivers slept. I spent some of today going through an Oliver Nelson book called Patterns for Improvisation on guitar, then headed over to Barnes and Noble, and now I’m back at the bus working on some banjo. I’ve got this Telecaster banjo that is perfect for practicing without driving everyone around me crazy. Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37298642015-06-04T20:00:39-05:002017-01-10T07:08:15-06:00Jerry Douglas Studio Day!<span style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/c801d5a89642e054f9fbf1b1204ef0c24de2fe53/original/11350426-896678700380579-9089361228571121229-n.jpg?1433465977" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Instrumental record update: Jerry Douglas ruled it today in the studio on the Dobro and Weissenborn. He played on Hogan's House of Boogie, '65 Mustang Blues, Smartville, and two others. We had a blast.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37284982015-06-03T23:42:39-05:002020-09-05T13:34:02-05:00My First Martin Guitar<span style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/3775cd9ed9c5fd68d4311b570bad6cba9fefd73f/original/11391162-895963663785416-6346068255973253180-n.jpg?1433392941" class="size_l justify_center border_" />A story to share about the new instrumental record, Hogan's House of Music, due to be released August 28th. This receipt was for my first Martin guitar, a used 1969 D-18 I bought from my Dad at his store, Hogan's House of Music, for his cost - $300. I still have the guitar and the receipt. I used this guitar for all my guitar work on Everytime You Say Goodbye with AKUS not long after I joined the band in 1991. It was my sole acoustic guitar for about ten or twelve years, from 1981 until around 1994.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37110842015-05-19T23:34:33-05:002017-01-10T07:08:14-06:00Day 3 at Southern Ground Studios<span style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/14e17546795d80ca056183f9961a7d1bce427c96/original/ronblock-2727.jpg?1432096458" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Excellent last day in Zac Brown’s Southern Ground with Dan Tyminski, Barry Bales, Adam Steffey, and Clay Hess. </span><br style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><span style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">We laid down a fast old-time fiddle tune, Ralph’s Clinch Mountain Backstep with Clay on rhythm guitar, and two originals. One is called Mollie Catherine Carter, named after my great-great grandmother, and another called Smartville, named for a town in </span><br style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><span style="color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Northern California I lived in as</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"> a boy. <br><br>The guys did a killer job, and Brandon’s tones ruled - used a Neumann U47 and KM54 on the banjo. We cut fifteen tunes in three days. <br><br>Tomorrow I’m on to learning some Clay Hess material to play with him in Missouri this weekend.</span>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37108392015-05-19T00:31:00-05:002017-01-10T07:08:14-06:00Day 2 in the studio-Hogan's House of Music<p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/dee0bd1b085f5d1db23e6b17022509d48a129ac6/original/10929942-888760401172409-2560553869087924505-n.jpg?1432013441" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Day 2: We’ve got 11 songs recorded total. Today was another great day in Zac Brown’s Southern Ground studio with Dan Tyminski, Barry Bales, Adam Steffey, and Lynn Williams. </p>
<p style="margin: 6px 0px 0px; display: inline; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">We cut five more tunes, including a fiddle tune I took from Art Stamper, three Earl Scruggs tunes, and an original called Mooney Flat Road. We have one more day tomorrow, adding Clay Hess to the mix – five more tunes to record, including two more originals.</p>Ron Blocktag:www.ronblock.com,2005:Post/37106082015-05-17T23:28:01-05:002017-01-10T07:08:14-06:00Hogan's House of Music - Day 1 in the studio<p style="margin: 0px 0px 6px; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/163270/ba90bb8b81398e9444aa2c7921a826107cae0692/original/11260360-888307324551050-8954592631547162926-n.jpg?1431923258" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Recording was a blast today at Zac Brown’s Southern Ground on Music Row in Nashville. Many recordings have been made here, including Neil Young’s “Prairie Wind” record, and most recently the studio was featured on the new Foo Fighter’s documentary “Sonic Highways”! </p>
<p style="margin: 6px 0px; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Koa wood floors, rustic walls – it’s a perfect recording space, originally built as a Presbyterian church between 1897 and 1903. </p>
<p style="margin: 6px 0px 0px; display: inline; color: rgb(20, 24, 35); font-family: helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Today, Sam Bush, Dan Tyminski, Byron House, and Lynn Williams were in here playing their butts off. We cut the three songs I’d prepared, including the originals “Hogan’s House of Boogie” and “’65 Mustang Blues” and then we cut two more on top of that, so we’re sitting pretty for the next two days of recording with Barry Bales, Dan Tyminski, Adam Steffey, and Clay Hess. Brandon Bell, who worked for years with longtime AKUS engineer Gary Paczosa, is getting fat tones.</p>Ron Block