CinderBlue, Green Plow Coffee Shop, and, like, Beatnik Poetry

He'd sit on a stool and drone on about a subject which would be the subject of several sequential sentences. Monotone was the music, eyeballs occasionally would stray from the crumpled manuscript to fasten on some object in the far distance, ignoring both the "Like, I'm into it, man!" and the mindless, wordless gaze returning to his.

Discussions on the way out would always have the word "existential" in them, and often.

That was the coffeehouse long before Starbucks. Music was usually singles, strumming an acoustic guitar in great earnestness.

Now Redmond Oregon's own Green Plow Coffee Roasters straddles those extremes with a coffeehouse that takes from Starbucks the idea of very good coffee, stirs in sustainable and eco-friendly requirements for their suppliers, and leaves behind the stainless steel and the tacky "I'm into coffee" tschotschkes. Result? Coffee that tastes good to taste and feels good to drink.

But instead of the lost-soul poet loosing his angst like a cocker spaniel doing its early morning pandiculations, Pat and Mandy have music. Like, f'r instance, oh, maybe, like CinderBlue let's say. (Be it noted: the picture of Lee Barker and his long time guitar playin' compatriot Rex Gatton was taken by Timothy Park. The image of the CinderBlue front line (and back) is from Joe Fettig. Thank you both.)

Ok, ok, it's self-serving to say that. They hired us, we did the job: Full house both times, and we didn't do any morose doggerel and we didn't do any whiny folk songs which one is required to sing with one's eyes closed, especially during the chorus.

So having linked these things up--the history of the coffee house in 1.5 paragraphs, the guilty-as-charged confession of the musician in the pictures, how come then the word "like" appeared multiple times in a sentence and that annoying affectation is back, loud and strong? Is it the coffee house that's the carrier of the virus?

Knowing Pat and Mandy, I think not. They're just enjoying providing the place for coffee, community and conversation, and when that list is expanded to include music, it's, like, way cool. The coolest man. So far plowed out, man. I mean, you know, it's like whoa.

Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival: Meet CinderBlue

Through the graciousness of Jay Bowerman and his band, Quincy Street (of Bend, Oregon) we were invited to the Wheeler County Bluegrass Festival last week to join them on stage for a few tunes during their gospel set on Sunday morning.

This is our third time out: Meet CinderBlue: Marlene Stevens, vocals; Jeff Stevens and Rex Gatton, guitars; Lee Barker, bass.

The venue: The lawn of the county courthouse. The Friday night-Sunday event includes name bluegrass acts, a local songwriter's contest--and the song must be about Wheeler County or the county seat, Fossil itself--a gospel scramble, area acts, wonderful food vendors, a car show (across town--two blocks away, that is) and the most attentive, relaxed and delightful crowd you could dream up. Bluegrass, unlike many genres, is multigenerational and it fosters that unashamedly. We had a great time.

Takeaway observations: (A) By far most bassplayers at this event were women. Ten to one, I'd say. (B) There are frighteningly talented children--and I mean single digits in some cases--on their way up, carrying the High Harmony, Acoustic Instrument flame forward through the ages. (C) Diana, who did the sound, was the most efficient and versatile boardmaster to come along in a while. (D) My anxieties about appearing onstage with a non-doghouse bass were for naught. I was not run out of town on an electric rail, and many folks in fact commented on how good the bass sounded. And a nearly equal number had seen the piece on Oregon Public Broadcasting and enjoyed connecting the loop via hearing the bass in person.

Bottom line: We're invited back next year. We wish it were tomorrow.