As promised,
Why I love the Folk-life Festival
Banjos, banjos, banjos! I've seen more banjo players at this festival than I've ever seen in my life. I hear that banjo players spend half of their time playing out of tune and the other half tuning. A fiddler told me that.

Playing civil war songs, a large African American liberal spouting off against Bush and ignorance, was dwarfed by his thin, sweet-voiced Native American partner WAILING on the harmonica. I mean WAILING.

If that juxtaposition wasn't enough, I saw the sexiest upright bass player I've ever seen, imagined even. Sorry Dave Hall and Jim Widner.
She was pleasantly plump, down-home as could be and dead sexy. Not only could she play the bass, but her voice was beautiful.

I did take a break to eat a Scottish delicacy, Fofar Bridie, I believe, and find my family tartan.

And today I found out that a violin and an accordion can make some of the most sorrowful sounds I've ever heard.

I might just go back tomorrow and see what else I can discover.