HIDING OUT...

I’ll be going back to the Coast this weekend, to see fambly. “Sternwheeler Days,” Cascade Locks’ big festival, is this weekend, but I won’t be playing at it (I would have to have arranged that months ago). Used to be a regular gig for the Dodson Drifters, years ago when we were all, well, alive, and we always did it for free; it was unthinkable that The Local Band—The Famous Local Band, in fact—wouldn’t play The Local Festival in what had become our home town.

(Best compliment I think we ever got came from a city councilmember in Cascade Locks. “They’re a little strange,” he said, “but after a few beers, they sound okay.”)

These days, 25 years later, I don’t think half the people in town would know me, and of those that do, most don’t even know I’m here. I’ve been hiding out in the little house in the woods, playing carpenter/painter/electrician/plumber, living cheap (food expenses for this week are $20, and that includes coffee), and in my spare time thinking up innovative and satisfying things to do to squirrels. And the people who keep them as pets. (Never rent to people who have—or get—pet squirrels. Never.)

Musically, I haven’t done much. The “to do” list is longer than the “done” list, and maybe I like it that way—gives me something to look forward to. Beth Williams’ baseball song, “Foul Play,” still needs music, Vonee Rose’s “Texas Two-Step Rock” still needs a lead; and there’s a new write-a-song-from-a-title challenge—in this case, the title is “Something Missing,” and I wanted to avoid the obvious cliches of lost love, Iraqi war amputations, and girlfriends who cut off guys’ body parts for fun, because those have all been done before.

I do hear music for it—reminiscent of George Jones, whom I’ve never “channeled” before. Just need words (more words—I already have some). Good thing to work on while I’m doing carpentry—otherwise, I’d be talking to myself, which feels unhealthy. And up here in the woods, there’s nobody to complain.

Another job interview today; this one’s in a suburb of Portland, and if I got the job, I’d be commuting from Cascade Locks, which is 25 miles away. Living expenses would be cheap, because the house was paid for years ago. And yes, I’ve already figured out what I’d do for music if I were there. There’s both a Portland Songwriters Assn. and a Portland Folklore Society, and I’d probably hook up with both, find some jam sessions (the Portland Songwriters have some well-publicized open mikes), check out the live music scene in some of the neighboring towns, and see if I can insert myself into it somehow. All “been there, done that” stuff that’s easy to repeat.

Portland’s a lot like Medford in that there’s virtually no country music—maybe that’s a common feature of big urban areas. But my experience in southern Oregon was that people like country music even when they’re not used to hearing it—they’ll actually go places to hear it, and they’ll pay money to do so. It’s like country music was filling some kind of void, making up for something missing (shall we say) in people’s lives. I wonder what it is. I remember the old definition of country music: “Pain You Can Dance To.” Times are hard—real hard for some of us. I wonder if it’s an outlet people need (and if I can exploit it).

And if I’m living in the Gorge while commuting to that suburban job, I’m sure there’s some kind of live music scene in the Gorge, because there was when I lived here, and I just haven’t tried to tap into it while I’ve been here because I’ve been busy hiding out. That would change. (Of course, I have no idea whether I’ll be offered the job—and I don’t dare get my hopes up. There is a lot of competition for jobs these days.)

UPDATES: It’s shaping up to be a very slow Concert Season. The “Moograss” Bluegrass Festival won’t be happening Labor Day weekend (I’ve tried to get myself inserted in Central Point’s Labor Day festivities instead, but I may be too late); Pineyfest, in Nashville, isn’t happening either (and I couldn’t afford to go anyway). I haven’t pushed getting a performance slot at the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival (early July), or the Grassroots Festival in Union (mid-August), because the price of gas for an unemployed person is just plain daunting. I am on the agenda for a Southern Oregon Songwriters concert in Central Point around the end of August, and hope I’ll be able to do that.

Joe