–the title of a song Paul wrote back when we first performed in the northern New York town of the same name, but not, as it turned out, the same pronunciation. Who knew that the "Low-" rhymes with "how," not "go?" Undaunted, we took it in stride and adjusted the vowel. The lyric still worked... visually.
For our return to the Black River Concert Series last Saturday we had fun dusting off and polishing that tune. What a great night. It didn't hurt that volunteers met us on the street to help tote gear, that we were taken out to dinner (thank you Carmen and Connie), and given plates of baked goodies to take home after the show. It didn't hurt that the room (the Lewis County Historical Society, a former Masonic Lodge) has the best acoustics we have ever known, and the audience was a pin-drop-attentive, standing-ovation, buy-our-cds crew. Damn. They set the bar so high for the year can it be only downhill from here? Hope not.
Framed by doric columns, naturally. Craig appears to be meditating.
And then there was the gig the night before, just a few miles from KZ's house, deep in the boondocks. Hey, we're cool with playing honkytonks, too. Good people, and Kathy's friend Melinda gave us a dozen delicious carrot cupcakes.
"It may not be exactly Carnegie Hall / No flowers and no curtain calls
But you play harder when your back's against a wall / you're not just putting on a show"