A Grand Ol' Hootenanny

Forgive me my absence for yesterday; I don't normally post on weekends, and I had a lot on my mind last night, so it feels like quite a while since I've written for Ramble On. In fact, it's only been those three days, but it's all in the eye of the beholder, I guess. I actually have a heckuva lot to write about, so I'll just go in chronological order through the weekend.

Friday night, a small, fearless band of Wesleyites (including me, Gina, Jason, Libby, Megan, Brittlea, Jonathan, and Matthew) headed out to the Floyd Country Store for their Friday Night Jamboree. Every time I hear that word, I have to resist the temptation to say it with the middle syllable emphasized -- you know, all Jam-BO-ree like. An equally intrepied group of Wesley students travelled there two and a half years ago, and they brought back some photographic evidence of their time at the store. Armed with these images in my head, I was ready for a good time and some great bluegrass music.

I got both, as it turns out. The Floyd Jamboree is the real deal when it comes to homegrown bluegrass. Bands will come in from all corners of the U.S., literally as far away as California, just to play up on that tiny little stage. At least, that's what I gathered as I watched six or seven guys come in the screen door, wade through the crowd with their instruments held high above their heads, and then gently thank the audience as they set up around their microphones. A few quick jokes and some tunings later, and they easily launched into a fast number. They mixed in a few gospel tunes and slow dances and two-steps, and everyone had a fabulous time.

It took me a while to warm up to dancing, though, because I'm really no good at it. However, after even Matthew and Jason made it out onto the dance floor, how could I refuse? Gina and I did a few slow dances, but our crowning acheivement was the square dance that came around 10:30 that night. I'd had a couple of square dancing lessons way back when, but she hadn't, and I'd forgotten most of the moves. It made for an interesting sight, but we weren't the only ones out there without the crucial knowledge of how to promenade your partner or put your hands in. We made it through the dance passably well, and the only incident was Gina and one of the older men in the crowd bumping their heads together during a "swing your partner."

It was interesting to see how some of the small-town folk reacted to us college students coming in for a peek into their lives. I know they've sent youngsters off to college before, so it's not like we're a foreign quantity - but still, we must have been pretty big sore thumbs that night. For our part, I didn't feel that out of place, having grown up in a small mountain town, but I think this was the first experience of its kind for a number of people in our group. I only hope they came out of the night with good impressions of small-town life.

Most of the regulars were friendly, anyway, and all the frequent dancers were more than happy to teach us a few steps. Some were even more thrilled to treat Brittlea and the other girls to some slow dances, like this one particularly unique, skinny 65-year old man dressed in black leather and a cowboy hat. I suppose the Jamboree attracts all kinds, after all.

Friday night was a definite highlight for me. As for this week so far, there haven't been too many things to report. The Wesley Fall Retreat is coming up this weekend, however, and I'm pumped about that. Cheers for now!