My Life as a Musical – Banjo Matthew
So another chapter in My Life as a Musical, took place in the Trader Joe’s parking lot. After the Throne of Kings found its way into Shitty Shitty Bang Bang (my Toyota Matrix), I headed over to Trader Joe’s to see about flowers for Mistress. As my Cordoba screamed in agony at being left in the hot car alone, before I even turned my back I on her I heard the distinctly chimey and mostly-silver-with-a touch-of-bluish-green sound of G-Major ringing out from the sidewalk. I could see a dude with a banjo shredding mightily with a hat laid out, and I was immediately reminded that I had once again forgotten my ATM card. So back to the car (EVERYBODY NOW: where the fu*), and then over to meet said bard.
His sound was unique, and it wasn’t just the lilting Appalachian twitter in his voice, it was an exceptionally warm and smooth banjo sound. I watched him play up close and realized that a) he was playing nylon strings (20+ years, i’ve never seen that before) and b) he was a playing a fretless banjo (ditto) and that c) said banjo had started out life with frets…he mauled the thing and ripped them off. After a round of introductions – his name was Matthew, so we laughed about that before I explained that I was actually Rango, which made the conversation strange and uncomfortable due to his mountaineering sensibilities – he stopped playing long enough for me to inquire about his banjo mauling skills and he confirmed that yes, he mutilated it and yes, it was in G-Major. At that point I had to resist all my urges to go get my guitar and jam with the dude, because a) it was obvious by then I was a musician and probably packing heat in the car and b) I felt it would be unwelcome because I found him slightly strange, as I imagined he did me as well. So $3 for the hat and a double-handed yasm \m/ and I was gone. A fine and rare moment.
\m/ (-.-) \m/