Okay, I'm getting ready now. I can't count the days, but i can feel the flow toward the solstice. I'm thinking about Warner field and the old farts that are hoping to be too wasted to hear a baby cry at three in the A.M. unless I have to get in line. I think that being in the lower levels of the senior citizens and being able to taste Irish whiskey on Thursday night while shifting my weight from one foot to the other, and not a care in the world. I love the Idea of being a newbie in this space, while having heard all the incarnations of New Grass revival. I remember camping in town park where the playground is now. It snowed and rained day and night. We spent a night at Alta lakes, and spent a night at Trout Lake, when the Festival was two days. I was with Joe Craven the day we heard Vassar Clements died at Song School. I almost think we need some youth to walk us to our seats, but the tarp run knows no boundaries. I have a great story about TBF that I am trying, without much luck, to write as the moments slide by. I keep writing bits and pieces, but it isn't as complete as it ought to be. If the story is as real as I can pretend, why haven't I written it?
It is something about counting the daze before To Hell U ride, so if you can see the future or altered the past while going to TBF, give me a thread to follow,I'll be sitting in the third chair from the edge, reading Ulysses in the original Hopi and if you haven't yet jumped the dimensions, its not like jumping the shark.
For all of you who think I am crazy, stop now, and attempt twenty more TBF's, those of you along for the ride, step right in.
Tom, we have talked along the cottonwoods, I don't know when, but other places too... R&D, talking sometime, I;m sure, how could we not; it's more, how could we KNOT. and how many of you?????????? out there, listening to ...sound.....and that is what gets you to TBF, Bob, how could I know if you check in here , .....Folks, he's been to every one, and I bow and say "Namaste". He doesn't stay at TP, much to civilized for him.
Luke, I'll see you, sometime.soon, I Hope, even if you don't read here.
Thor?
Michelle?
Bill/ my brother lives above you on the hill, I think?
:like an enigma
wrapped in music at the solstice, hear the voice of earth ......................
Vanadium, Uravan, Never turn your back on Mother Earth. You ought to drive through Unaweep canyon, if you only had time and Grand Junction was your entrance or exit. There are rocks there that are at least half as old as Earth, and its down in a canyon....at least 6900 feet above the sea, 2 ways out and no way in, but for the sky., and the sun. breathe the air and its conifers and aspens, and metal in the ground,,,,,Is Africa on the other side or only a third of the way around, ?, Bela , I'd like to meet your friend.
Sammy, I love your music and Peter, I'm willing to ride the Rio Grande the whole way, with your songs, and a good raft, up high in the San Juans, to the Sangre De Cristos and down to the gulf. Taking another ride from the divide to the gulf of California, taking a sunshower and a box of food.
How would a historian write about this journey in the Mountains?
How will you remember it?
I know we all have different ways, we don't even play the same, but it, in the same instance, it takes us all, sometimes beyond the realm of speech, and as you listen.........
When I listen, you know, in that space where the crisp sound pulls your soul and you flow and I let go,, where the notes dance and the sounds expand.....
and, and, and...
So, I will count the days, in my own way, with every note played...and I will look for your stories somewhere along the way, , if i could hear.
If i could only count, then I would know how many footsteps it would be, how many breaths, how many beaches, and which water molecules touched my skin.
Which molecules have been shaken by a banjo?
Which one dances with your voice?
Will it be at TBF to greet you?
If you inhale, will it be inside you, or is it rushing out in the words you are speaking, do you keep it close, or has it been gone a year?
Not to be impolite, but how much of you is water?, and isn't it water that gives up oxygen in photosynthesis? You aren't sure if it is carbon dioxide, are you?
But you are pretty sure that the chlorophyll and sunlight provide you with every breath, and every bite of food, including bacon, or not, if you hate bacon. why would anyone care, it is food, from the sun. all of it is food for thought.
I guess I am breaking the rules, writing while counting down the seconds with a streaming thought of words much like the crickets that Neko recorded, for a long time, and that is how I am waiting, I think about what is possible and what I wish possible. TBF, is it you I hear calling through those crickets?
***********************Disclaimer***************************************************
f you read this post and it doesn't make sense, just substitute a different name, noun, verb, or element until it sounds right, or until any sense you use has the right combination of air , dust, sunlight, wind , or rain, lightning, water vapor, special scents, or interactions that tell you...YOU'RE at Telluride, count to one.
Listening to:
Jorma, Bela, Neko 
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