When the clock struck midnight this past New Year’s Eve, a new North Carolina state tax took effect.

“This isn’t a tax reform, it’s a tax shift,” said Rep. Joe Sam Queen, D-Waynesville. “It’s just part of the shift by the Republican legislature on revenues. They cut taxes on big business, then entertainment, tourism and nonprofits, who do so much with so little, and are the engine of our economy, get taxed while those huge tax breaks are given to those who contribute to the call.” 

Time sure does fly, eh? It hit me this week that my column recently crossed over the one-year anniversary threshold. How crazy, huh?

Waylon Jennings is alive.

Figuratively. Not literally, folks. Strolling down Haywood Road in West Asheville one evening last summer, I came across the Double Crown, a dive bar of the most enjoyable proportions. And I love dive bars, places where I feel as welcomed as the beer is cold. 

“Let’s go back to the 1930s,” said Judy Coker.

Standing underneath a large manmade birch tent in the backwoods of the Cataloochee Ranch last Friday evening, Coker welcomed around 40 people — friends, family and visitors alike — to partake in their inaugural Way Back When dinner.

From welcoming, backwoods front porches to raucous downtown stages, the music of Western North Carolina weaves together the rich history, passion and camaraderie of Southern Appalachia and its inhabitants. At the heart of this deep love and appreciation for music are the communities that proudly display their heritage by offering weekly performances for residents and visitors alike. 

It’s 8:36 a.m. on a Thursday and I’m in Detroit.

Thee Irish Pub at the metro airport to be exact. Besides the usual fast food options I detest, it was the only other place open in Concourse B. And a nice local red ale sounds about right for this moment, especially since this is the beginning of my “vacation.”

He was completely shocked. Standing in front of an empty warehouse in Dillsboro, which will soon be the site of his new brewery, Dieter Kuhn couldn’t believe almost 500 people had shown up at the recent launch party of his new facility. 

Short shorts and a neon orange trucker hat.

Strolling down Main Street in downtown Waynesville, I found myself adorned with those exact pieces of clothing. You see, I was headed to Tipping Point Brewing, and that evening I was going to enter the Cinco de Beardo contest put on by the Dixie Beard & Moustache Society.

“Hey, Garret, what’s up, man?” I looked up from my notebook and there standing in front of me was a familiar face. Tony Casey, from the North Country. It was last Saturday evening and I was sitting at a picnic table at White Duck Taco in the River Arts District of Asheville. And there we were, two boys from the Champlain Valley of Upstate New York, crossing paths over a thousand miles from our hometowns.

What does a washboard, a bucket and a beard have in common?

They make up the melodic magic that is The Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band. A three-piece country-blues outfit barreling out of southern Indiana, the group has one foot firmly planted in the rich history of early American music, the other stepping into a future where these sights and sounds are needed now more than ever.