This must be the place: Ode to Steve Sutton — banjo legend, dear friend
It came as a shock that has had a ripple effect within music circles around Western North Carolina and beyond.
This must be the place: That face in the mirror? Own it.
I didn’t know what to say.
Standing in the doorway of the music venue, he said it so casually.
This must be the place: ‘In my heart, I am just a boy …’
It was during the first sip of my second beer when it struck me.
“Let’s go see Dave Davies.”
This must be the place
It was immediately familiar.
Stepping into the Canton Middle School last Friday morning, the sights, sounds and smells of the building transported my mind back to when I was 13 years old some two decades ago. There was the sights of teachers and administrators meandering up and down long corridors, sounds of young teenage boys and girls playfully teasing and laughing with each other, smells of an old gymnasium and predictable cafeteria food.
This must be the place: No time for eggplant parm, let’s talk the cosmos
I had just reached for the eggplant parmesan sandwich when it was asked.
“What do you think about God?”
This must be the place: You may be gone, but your impact remains
I remembered immediately.
Scrolling through the Facebook stream on Monday afternoon, I came across a post from a dear high school friend who had some sad news to share. A mutual friend of ours, from way back up on the Canadian border, in my native North Country, had suddenly and tragically passed away the night before.
This must be the place: The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree
It was familiar, yet weird.
Over the last two weeks I’ve crossed paths twice with my immediate family. Once down in St. Augustine, Florida, for my father’s 75th birthday and this past weekend in Waynesville, as my parents, little sister and niece came to visit me in Western North Carolina.
This must be the place: Just when you found me, I’m gone
You don’t know me.
In recent weeks, I’ve found myself saying that exact statement above to folks I love and care about. One being my sister over the phone back home in the North Country. The other via Skype with a femme fatale currently out of the country, one that has caught my eye over the winter.
This must be the place: I was never cool. Then again, who is?
She is still a fox.
Midnight. Last Tuesday morning. Wide-awake and in front of a large HD television at my parent’s Florida rental cottage. I haven’t had cable in several years. But, seeing as everyone was already asleep and March Madness was over for the night, I clicked around the endless channels of nothing.
This must be the place: We won, but what’s the real prize?
Once they announce your name, you stand up and move towards the bright lights.
Meandering around a sardine can ballroom of tables, chairs and random folks milling about, The Smoky Mountain News made it to the stage at the Sheraton in downtown Raleigh last Thursday evening.
