basement music.

folk music in a library basement?
yuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
some duder,
from somewhere,
was down there telling stories about classic
new england old-timey hottness,
and playing old-as-F* instruments,
and generally getting busy like an expert
for a whole big batch of probably-literate,
albeit long-in-the-tooth bluehaired thousand year olds.
yeah.
oh,
and me and the cucch, too.
that's what's up.
we spanned so much time drinking coffee,
and smoking stumps,
and trying out new flavors of special berfday pipe tobacco,
that we may have been operating under the auspices
of stimulated brainwave activation....
just sayin',
we found a weird flier for the folk show,
and it was titled: 'banjos, bones, and ballads'.
obviously,
we absolutely HAD to get rad with that.
in a library basement, with homemade pie and sh!t.
that's real.
refreshments were served, kids.
the performer/professional storyteller,
mr. jeff warner,
said something pretty awesome, though-
until about a hundred years ago,
if you heard music,
you were in the same place where it was being played.
expert.
word up.
-
anyway,
we know how to waste time, neighbors,
and we know when and where to do it, too.
that fella playing and singing and performing
was dooooooooooooooooooope, though.
spoons, and jaw harp, and banjo, and guitar,
and concer-mutha-flippin'-tina, my ninjas!
check the teleport:

c'mon.
and this one too:

c'mon!!
he repped those spoons, friends.
for serious,
this dude was a non-terrible spoon man,
and he got live with 'em like a warrior poet
from the sea-shantytowns of yesteryear.
...
and that wasn't even it, my ninjas.
the banjo was made out of a big ol' piece of walnut,
way back in the real olden days of yore an' that-

and what the F* are frets?
that's just a slab of wood,
a finger pickin' plank of super-dope twangy america jauns.
heck yeah!!
tension pegs for tuning keys?
so fresh.
***********
time was spent, freely,
on the simplest things.
good times with my peoples,
good days in the windy warm weather of mid-september,
good times in a library basement.
fun is how you make it, mutha-'uckers,
not where you make it.
wherever we are?
uh-huh.
that's the place to be;
never quiet, never soft.....