Hearing my Grandpa plunk out “Soldier’s Joy” on a five (slang for a five-string banjo, for those not in the know) he made himself, and me deciding I would like one for the next Christmas.
Me getting one the next Christmas.
Me taking lessons from Olen Gardner, at Christiansburg High School, VA, and realizing after practicing that I could actually make a decent sound on one.
Olen’s encouragment, and him letting me actually hold his Gibson Mastertone.
Hearing Stephen Wade for the first time.
Playing “Babtist Shout” for my Grandpa, shortly before he died.
Remembering all the great banjoists I’ve heard, and admittedly, sneering at all those who thing the banjo is a hillbilly instrument, and revelling in the fact that they will never know the pleasure of hearing Earl Scruggs pick “Cripple Creek”, or Don Reno pick “Green Mountain Hop”, which, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put on right now.
A good friend of mine is a comedian, and he plays the banjo quite well (no, it’s not Steve Martin).
I attended a bluegrass festival with him a few years ago where he was the emcee of the mainstage. He was invited to play with three of the top banjoists of the world, and I was so proud watching him.
This would have been like a guitarist being invited to jam with Eddie Van Halen, Eric Clapton, and Jeff Beck. My buddy was stunned to find himself in this situation. At one point during the performance he looked over to me in disbelief and said, “What am I doing here?!”
I can play a little, and get great joy in being able to pick out “Cripple Creek.”
I liked the Space Ghost Coast to Coast episode where the Ghost’s sea monkey named Banjo grew to gigantic proportions and breathed fire. Space Ghost was, of course, forced to distroy him.
“No! Banjo! Why do we always hurt the ones we love?”
When I was little, Grampa showed me his banjo, and asked me if I knew what perfect pitch was. I said no, and he explained it was when you threw a banjo in a dumpster without it hitting the sides.
You wanted my favorite banjo experience, bucko. That’s it. Grampa’s been dead for 32 years, but I remember that moment and his banjo. Maybe it was an old joke then, but I was a kid and hadn’t heard it, and it was a special moment. He died not long after that. I still have his banjo. Never learned to play it, tho. I wish he’d have played it more when I was around.
** Qadgop the Mercotan **, I certainly didn’t mean to get your ire up. I was only joking and I should have displayed something like this: . For what it’s worth, I wish I could have heard my Grandpa play his more than he did. So, we have something in common.
Just about any banjo tune performed by the diverse and multi-talented Peter Tork (he plays several instruments superbly). When he’s toured with the Monkees, he generally performed “Cripple Creek” and “Higher and Higher” only. In his live solo shows he generally does several banjo selections including the two referenced above as well as these personal favorites of mine–“Cuckoo,” “The Foggy Dew,” “I Truly Understand,” and others. If you’re lucky, he’ll do a comical contribution called “The Kretchma.”
. For what it’s worth, I wish I could have heard my Grandpa play his more than he did. So, we have something in common.