Awesome pickin'

The pickin' was AWESOME, as awesome as a pint of summer on the ides of March.   Fresh as green grass and clear as a quick brook, the low notes kept time as the trebles cascaded, slow and sweet, then faster, and faster.   Wheee!

Permanent sitters on the southwest bench

We both thought he was a student when he asked our go-ahead to play banjo on a bench northwest of the gazebo.   We were relaxing in the shade on the northeast bench after a late afternoon lunch.   The other shady bench, southwest and under the trees, was occupied by more than the bronze statue of a man and boy when we arrived.   A woman sat on the southeast corner ~ each of us held our own sweet slice of space on that perfect afternoon.

"Sure, yes, that would be great," we said, happy for a fellow musician to garnish the air with his music.   Then we continued our conversation about skateboards and their riders, trying to define the elusive quality of skateboarders that bothered authorities enough to target them for special persecution.   We figured it must be the "cool" factor, the 'tude.

"At least here it's not like Iowa City," I told my daughter.   "That ped mall has prohibitions posted on signs and painted on sidewalks, against skateboards and bikes, skates, and other stuff, too.   It's ugly, and it's a constant reminder of how controlled it is."

Wheels are outlawed on Fairfield's downtown sidewalks, too (unfortunately), but not strictly enforced.   From where I sat, I could see two bicyclists and three skateboarders wheeling around the sidewalks, bothering no one, and chatting with their friends on foot.

But back to the music.   The banjo player was no beginner, and although it sounded a little like bluegrass, it was more than that.   More glide, maybe, more dynamism.

A couple walked by, dropped some bills in his open case, and I heard the player ask what they wanted to hear.   They stood and listened.   I had been listening carefully all along, too, because the pickin' was just AWESOME.

His name is Jon Eric, he lives in Iowa City, and he had something to add to the ped mall convo.

"They don't allow this kind of thing, playing music outside like this ~ they have an anti-busking law."   (No open cases or coffee cans, but public pianos?)

I told him that our Open Mic might give him an audience of 50+ local music lovers (like the night before) as an introduction to our scene.   It's a long drive from Iowa City .... but Fairfield has a draw.

"I love this," he swept his arm over the square, "playing in the open air, sharing the love of music.   Bless you all for keeping the music free.   It's all about sharing the love."