Deep South

We are in the Deep South.
Our annual visit to our guitar player friend Brent Sibley in the mountains of mid-Alabama north of Birmingham. Brent has a house surrounded by woods, some of which he has planted himself over the last few years. He is quite isolated from the world and his place is a quiet refuge from the world which is currently obsessed with financial crises. At least it is if you listen to the radio and watch the TV.
We had a showing of our new film, "Etched in Stone: Scotland to Provence," in Huntsville, Alabama, on Tuesday, and the night before that in Crossville, Tennessee, (Fairfield Glade Lions Club). The Crossville gig is at a little old renovated movie theater with comfy new seats. They have a loyal following and a very active Lions Club. In Huntsville, the Kiwanis is equally active and so they get a pretty good crowd, too, and now that they have introduced their own screen, we are not forced to show a dark product on two screens inside the church hall. Huntsville is quite a cosmopolitan place because of the infusion of rocket scientists, I guess.
Wednesday there was a lot of rain. We stayed over in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Huntsville and drove to Brent's place Wednesday afternoon. I spoke to Carl Lowe, and old musician friend from New York who now lives in Arab (pronounced A-Rab.) We'll try to see him on our way up to North Carolina to see Lolita and play a Sunday matinee in Hendersonville, NC.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday will take us from North Carolina, to Tennessee, to North Carolina, and finally to McLean, Virginia, which is on the edge of Washington, DC. Maybe we'll be able to offer some advice to the government. Oh yeah.
Til next time when, hopefully, all will be well.