APPALACHIAN TALES: THE BLUEGRASS SINGER

It was a lazy Saturday evening.

The Lady of the House was in her recliner, she had her reading glasses on and was poring over the local paper, catching up on the area news.

I was in my recliner next to her tuned in to the local public TV station watching a bluegrass music show.  I like this particular show because they produce it not far from the old hometown of Roanoke, Virginia.  There are the folks in front of the camera, guitars pickin’ and fiddles playin’ and every now and then the camera pans out to catch a shot of the appreciative audience, folks from the mountains just diggin’ some good bluegrass music.

And then The Bluegrass Singer was in front of the camera.

I laughed out loud.

“Lawd have mercy!” I laughed.  “Look who it is!”

“Who is it?” asked The Lady of the House.  She had put her paper down and was looking at the TV over the top of her glasses.  “You know this guy?”

“Well, not so much,” I said smiling.

How long has it been…my goodness…33 years.  That’s long ago and it was far away, back in the mountains of western Virginia.  I was a country disc jockey in a little mountain town, spinning the country records and making appearances.

And hanging around with Darcy.

Darcy was crazy.

I know that now but I didn’t know that then.

Well, maybe crazy is too broad a brush to paint Darcy with.  Years in the future she would be diagnosed as extremely bipolar, so much so the government would put her on disability.  They’d let her drive, they’d let her live independently and she’d get money in the mail every month.

I just thought she was sensitive, artistic and creative.

After one of the first times we went out we returned to her apartment where she promptly went to a bare corner and started beating her head against the wall.

“WHY…DO…YOU…WANT….TO…GO…OUT…WITH…ME?????”

It’s interesting, when I tell that little tidbit to folks here in the future they look at me with big eyes and say, “That wasn’t a red flag to you?  You didn’t turn and get the hell out?”

“Noooo,” I say usually with a smile, “I just thought she was having a bad day.  I just thought she needed more good times in her life.”

Well sure, there were those weird times when we’d be having a good time then all of a sudden a dark cloud would seem to move across her face and she’d be raging at me over something.  I just figured I needed to improve on showing her a good time.

So I had been asked to emcee a music festival one evening at the local college and Darcy tagged along, she was my girlfriend after all.

Darcy and I hung around backstage as I’d introduce act after act of the festival, read announcements and tell corny jokes.

One of the headlining bands of the festival was the one with The Bluegrass Singer.  He played mandolin.

It wasn’t long after The Bluegrass Singer’s band left the stage I noticed Darcy wasn’t around.  At first I thought she went to the bathroom but then it seemed she was gone for longer than a bathroom break.

So after I introduced the next band for their set I started moseying around the festival looking for my girlfriend.

I made my way through the evening crowd, over by the food booths.  I went to the parking lot and eyeballed the place.

I was walking back to the stage, figuring she’d return in time, when I heard a laugh I knew.

It was Darcy’s laugh…coming from inside The Bluegrass Singer’s tour bus.

I walked up to the bus door and stepped in.

There was Darcy sitting next to The Bluegrass Singer.  He had his arm around her and she had her legs draped over his.

I just stood at the front of the bus and smiled.

“Can I help you?” asked The Bluegrass Singer.

“Yeah,” I said.  “I’m looking for my girlfriend.”

“Well I don’t think she’s here, buddy.”

“Yeah she is,” I smiled and pointed at Darcy.  “That’s her.”

The Bluegrass Singer jumped up so fast he almost made Darcy fall on the floor.

He looked at Darcy with big wide eyes, “Hey, you should’ve told me you have a boyfriend.  A giant boyfriend.”

I’m just six-foot-three but I’ll take compliments where I can get ‘em, even backhanded ones.

Darcy just laughed.

“Sir,” he said.  “I didn’t know.  I didn’t mean anything.”

I held up my hand and smiled. 

“It’s okay, brother,” I said.

Darcy kept laughing.

I took her hand and we walked off the bus.

As we walked back to the stage The Bluegrass Singer came to the door of the bus.

“No hard feelings, right buddy?” he asked.

With my back to him I held my hand in the air and waved.

“It’s okay,” I hollered back.  “It ain’t my first rodeo.”

“You didn’t get mad,” said Darcy as we walked in the night.  “I wanted you to get mad.  You didn’t get mad.  Why didn’t you get mad?  It’s funny when you get mad.”

“I just figure I need to show you a better time,” I said.

And here 33 years in the future was The Bluegrass Singer, pickin’ and a-grinnin’ on the public TV show.

“And you STILL hung around with this woman????” asked The Lady of the House.

“I thought I could fix her,” I said.  “Besides, SHE told me she wasn’t crazy.  I just figured she’d get happy if I showed her a good time.”

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