When I think of hot August nights in the South, I think of two things; the sound of someone picking a banjo, and the creaking sound of an old rocking chair on the porch. This idea probably comes from the fact that I spent most of my life in Orange County, better known as the home to Disneyland. I had a season pass for years, and one of the few parts that hasn't changed on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride is the first part. This is my ideal Southern experience. Happy music and a friendly boat ride in the Bayou.
When my father told me he purchased 11.33 acres in the hills by a lake in East Tennessee, my first question was, "Does it have a porch?". Three wooden decks of the back of the house will serve the purpose of my Disney created fantasy. I always wanted to learn to play the banjo. It's a step up on the geeky scale from an accordion and all of my favorite bands seem to now have a banjo on their records somewhere. Boy & Bear is one of these bands. Out of Australia they do a cover of "Fall At Your Feet" that is better than my previous favorite version of the song. They played it just before it started raining at Lollapalooza in Chicago a couple of weeks ago and I'm obsessed even more now that I saw them at Grant Park.
I thrive on live music. I learned to play around with the piano as a child, played the violin in elementary school, sang in the church choir throughout the years, and was raised in the music business. I have dated musicians, took some guitar lessons a few years back and never became a master of any of it, especially the dating musicians thing. I worked in the music business for five years right out of high school and have been around and witnessed pure genius of creation in the studio. I'm now learning to be a fan of sorts or at least trying. I never had a "normal" concert experience growing up. I was always with the artists backstage, on their buses, or they were coming to my house to go horseback riding. There was no "Celebrity Allure" for me. They were neighbors or friends of my father's. Strange to think about now, why my friends though it was cool and then there were those kids who were mean to me because of it. I didn't understand it back then. I still don't but, I lived, and am not really affected by it either way at this point except that I surround myself with creative talented people.
To realize my potential of becoming a part of what Tennessee means to me in my head, I bought a banjo and a book that came with a play-along CD. The guy who sold me the banjo gave me a name for the best teacher in Knoxville. I will probably need lessons sooner than later but I have managed to learn several chords and am familiarizing myself with my banjo, Stanley. Yes, I named him. I had a guitar named Priscilla growing up. I am determined to master this instrument. All it takes is practice, right?
The other part of the Disney fantasy is a Rocking Chair. I was at the Anderson Farmers Co-Op and they had rows of unfinished and a few worn, finished rocking chairs lining the front of the store. The unfinished chairs were 1/3 the price. I got one figuring that it can't be very difficult to put a little stain on a chair and enjoy it. Well, I was wrong. The rocking chair has become another ongoing project like learning the banjo. I was not aware that you have to sand things before you stain them. I never even painted a wall until I was 25 and living in NYC and my roommate decided to paint the silver wall in our gigantic TriBeCa loft, pink. We quickly hated the color and then primed it again and painted it a nice shade of Tiffany Blue, which we also grew tired of after two days. From that experience I learned that hiring people to paint things is a really good idea. I also apply that principal to moving and packing now. I get smarter as I get older.
I started to sand the rocking chair in the 90 plus degree heat and realized the amount of work this one is going to take. I managed to get the first coat of stain on it with a fair amount of drip stains that I was informed will have to be removed using steel wool. Yep, I bought the stain and polyurethane in one thinking THAT will make it SO much easier. Ha! The surface area of a rocking chair grows exponentially when you actually have to do something other than sit on it. So, as it stands now, ye ole rocking chair fantasy is still as far off as me learning a complete song on the banjo. At least I have something to strive for. Someday I will play the banjo while sitting in my rocking chair on the deck, drinking lemonade or sun tea, watching the deer play in my back yard. I'm halfway there today.
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