GETTYSBURG BLUEGRASS FESTIVAL--THERE WAS SINGIN' IN THE RAIN

That sea of umbrellas protecting concert goers is an indication of how special The Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival is to those of us who love this type of music.



We're somewhere back under a huge tent--nice and dry!



BTW, you won’t see Rob’s or my umbrella.  At this, our third Festival, we came prepared.  We set up reclining chairs and our little Eddie Bauer table out on a small field with a wonderful view of the stage and at a distance where the music is clear and sweet.  Then, we set up a second set of chairs under the huge tented area parallel to our original setup.  So I write this as I listen, protected from the rain.

Music, a recliner, and a cozie-covered bottle of beer.  I'm ready for plenty of bluegrass! 

Pretty crummy, you might think, to take up so much space when you can’t be in two places at once, but this is the most incredible venue.  It’s civil.  People can set themselves up any place they wish.  In fact, here at Granite Hill Camping Resort where the twice a year Festivals are held, if you are a camper and are here for the week, you can set up your chairs about a week in advance and no one will move them.  Here is the rule:  If your seat is empty, someone else can use it.  Then if you come, that person will leave.  Simple.  Civil.  Our seats are there for anyone when we are not.  And when I want to get close to the stage to take photos or to be really close for a particular act, there are places for me to sit.  In the three times we’ve attended this Festival, I’ve never seen any problem at all.

Rhonda Vincent & her son-in-law.  Close to the stage is no problem at all.

I might add that this civility and respect extends to all aspects of the event.  No one leaves so much as a piece of paper on the grounds.  Because there are many children, we are asked to use cozies for our cans and bottles of beer.  Yes, they sell them, but they’re not expensive.  Nothing here is priced for gouging!  Including the Festival.

This is for Rob

This is for me.

The Gettysburg Bluegrass Festival runs for four days.  Rob and I come for two, Friday and Saturday.  We cannot take advantage of the four or three-day passes, but our single day admission for each of the two days is only $35.00. 

Anyway, this afternoon, after a lovely morning, the skies exploded in thunderous, wet fury.  Some people up front simply opened their umbrellas; others put on ponchos, and others calmly drifted back to take empty seats here under the tent. 

We were here when today’s music began at 11:00 AM, and we won’t leave tonight until after the last act which goes on at 11:20 PM.  Yes, that’s for a $35.00 admission ticket.  We’ll take none of our things with us, and tomorrow morning when we return, a mysterious gnome will have straightened the makeshift rows and filled in any empty spaces.  Neat as a pin.

What about the quality of music, you might ask?  Fantabulous!  We see the finest bluegrass artists—grammy nominees and winners, artists given awards by Presidents, new and up-and-coming artists as well as seasoned veterans.  It is phenomenal.  If you are not a bluegrass fan already, go to Pandora or Jango.  Then come here next May or August.

The Seldom Scene is probably the oldest group here.  Ben (banjo) is 73.  Their name is based on the fact that the original members jammed in someone's basement.  They were all professional men enjoying their music.  They began getting calls to play but essentially they were "Seldom Scene."  And then they took off.  You just have to listen once to know why!

Bluegrass is WYSIWYG music.  What You See Is What You Get.  In a rare and unholy occasion, a musician uses an electrified instrument, but 99.9% of the time, this is pure acoustic music or a’capella singing with the most incredibly delicious harmonies.  No percussion, just strings.  In the best music, the vocals are allowed to shine while the accompaniment fades into the background only to come back as the vocal fades away.  The instruments are given an opportunity to shine individually, and the musicality is extraordinary.  If you’re thinking of some weird looking guy pickin’ on a porch in Deliverance—think again.  One group here, Next Best Thing, represents the seventh generation of bluegrass professionals.  Most have studied music in universities across the country.  There’s nothing amateurish in this crowd.  Microphones are used, though, because you have a huge, huge, crowd of bluegrass worshippers all around.

Next Best Thing, a relatively new group, includes daughters of Rhonda Vincent and son from Cherry Holmes

If you think for a moment that this is not a serious convocation, think again.  When they’re not performing, the artists run clinics for and schedule jams with attendees.  It’s wonderful to see so many people carrying string instrument cases with them. 

one of my favorite instruments is the dobro

Martin Guitar has a booth here.  In fact, there is a drawing for a $4,000. Martin guitar at the end of the festival.  The proceeds go to a bluegrass music school.  As I said, this is serious music.  Other booths sell mandolins, sheet music, and just about anything serious bluegrass requires. 

Doyle Lawson is one of the bluegrass greats

OK.  I head to T-shirts, refrigerator magnets and the like, but last year I did buy a sweetgrass hat I’ve been using.  It has a lovely fresh grassy aroma, is crushable, and, therefore, packable. 

The rain is becoming torrential, and the wind is whipping the rain toward the stage.  They actually call an early 50 minute dinner break.  What will we do?  We check in at our hotel, but we are back when the music starts up.  The rain has stopped, and bluegrass continues as if the weather had been beautiful all day.  We stay until the end.

Saturday we'll be back. The music will be too but with a different lineup. The day runs the same time schedule, and once again it’s great.  Does not get much better than this.

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TRAVELING BACK TO SEDONA, ARIZONA

My mind goes back to our trip to Sedona, Arizona, probably because I've finally had the photos printed and have begun to put that trip into my albums.  I went back to Third Age Traveler posts where I wrote about Sedona, (http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/05/sedona-arizona-wows-come-prepared.html),  and once again, I was awed by the beauty of Red Rock Country and wanted to revisit the second part of the incredible GPS tour we took (for the first part of the tour, go to http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2010/05/touring-sedona-via-gps-works-for-us.html) —a tour we rented at the Visitor Center in downtown Sedona.  The tour equipment plugs into our car’s speaker system guiding us and narrating as we go.  We can stop as often as we wish.  Our narrator is a fount of information. 

The second leg of our GPS tour of Sedona is quite different from the first leg.  This time we head south on Highway 179 to see the area in an entirely different way.

But before we get into the tour, Rob and I detour by turning up Schnebly Hill Road to the parking area at the point Schnebly Hill Road becomes a dirt road.  I'd read about this overlook, and it is definitely a MUST STOP.  We stay for about half an hour literally turning in circles and saying “Whoa!!!”  From each vantage point, we are treated to a breathtaking view.  Each movement provides a changing landscape of beauty as the sun dances across the rocks and tricks us into thinking what we've already seen is as good as it gets.  At our feet the cactus becomes part of the Nature’s pageant.

Eventually we drive down to rejoin Highway 179 and continue our tour.  We head toward the Village of Oak Creek.  As this is the road by which we came into Sedona but going in the other direction, we now see the rock formations from a different angle, and from the GPS tour guide we learn their names: Bell Rock, Cathedral Rock, and Courthouse Rock.



Courthouse Rock and Bell Rock



Cathedral Rock

We take a left at the Chapel Road roundabout and head for the Chapel of the Holy Cross.  Once again, our destination is nestled in spectacular surroundings, and we wind up a hill to reach it.

The Chapel of the Holy Cross has an interesting history.  On a visit to New York City in 1932, Marguerite Bruswig Staude looked at the newly completed Empire State Building and felt that from a particular angle she could see a cross.  She envisioned creating a monument just as inspirational, and when she was struck by Sedona's beauty, she decided to build her monument there.  Completed in 1956, the Chapel is built on a twin-pinnacled spur 250 feet high jutting out of a thousand foot red rock wall.  Impressive?  You better believe it!

The politics are interesting too as this land was Federal Land.  But oil the right wheels and.... She convinced Senator Barry Goldwater to pull enough strings to allow her to buy Federal land!  And so it goes.

Nonetheless, no matter your personal religious beliefs, this is an inspiring sight and should be on a “must see” list.  The Chapel rises dramatically, and the cross is magnificent as it is offset by the red rocks and blue sky behind it.  At quiet times I'm sure there is an enormous sense of wonder and spirituality generated.  The surrounding grounds are nicely kept with flowers and paths, and I can look down from these heights to see the valley and the most incredible home.  Later I am told that it is the home of a doctor who owns laser clinics.  I didn't Snopes this, but isn't this home something else?

Sedona is a spiritual community.  It boasts 25 churches and synagogues, and each one is architecturally interesting and unique.  These buildings could comprise a tour in itself.  Sedona is a relatively new community, and most of the architecture is modern yet inspired by the awesome natural area in which it is constructed.

In addition to a traditional spirituality, Sedona is home to a New Age spirituality.  My friend at the Chamber of Commerce said that approximately 10% of the members are concerned in some way with psychic powers or healing.

In fact, Sedona is famous for its vortexes—areas of energy that many claim to have healing or soothing powers.  Researchers from MIT have investigated, and some claim the spiraling growth of some of the juniper trees is caused by the swirling and healthful energy.  If you are in the area, you can even take vortex tours.

What these attributes do indicate is the wide, receptive, and harmonious atmosphere created as different ages and beliefs freely mingle in this beautiful environment.

Rob and I leave the Chapel, backtrack to rejoin Highway 179, and continue to the Village of Oak Creek, a bright residential community.  We drive past the Golf Club which is actually highlighted on the GPS tour, and we stop in the Red Rock Coffeehouse for a local brew.  Fresh?  They order locally to insure that the coffee is delivered within 48 hours of roasting.  The beans are ground just prior to preparation.  It is nice to sit outside under the awning and savor our coffee.

The second part of the tour ends here.  The third part would have taken us out to Boynton Pass—another “must see,” but that is also the route to Palatki Ruins, a destination we have later in the week.  We decide we've had enough for the day.  We have been driving and stopping and admiring and “Whoa-ing” for almost seven hours.  Our senses are overloaded, and it's time to rest.

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TRAVEL TO THE SOUTH PACIFIC--WITH JAMES MICHENER--A READ YOU'LL NOT FORGET

James Michener’s first book, Tales of the South Pacific, written in 1947 and based loosely on his own WWII experiences, earned a Pulitzer Prize and initiated a prolific writing career that left us a treasure trove of historical fiction.

Tales of the South Pacific is a series of loosely linked short stories, often featuring and developing the same characters as they evolve and react to their naval experiences on remote South Pacific islands. 

Is this a war story?  Yes.

Is this a story of human relationships? Yes.

Is this a story examining prejudices in society—between races, countries, and classes? Yes.

Is this a story that reveals how courage is shown and how heroes are made? Yes.

Is this a story that explores a world that existed more than half a century ago? Yes.

Is this more than any of these? Yes.

That’s why Tales of the South Pacific is such good reading.  It’s true that Rogers and Hammerstein’s Broadway show, South Pacific, has its origins in Michener’s tales, but if that show is what you’re looking for, you will be sorely disappointed.  This book is much bigger and broader in scope.  Much as I love South Pacific, this is one more example of how much finer is the book.

Picture yourself in the military in WWII, a time when most people did not travel far from home and when there was no television to make the inaccessible accessible.  You are stationed on Norfolk Island and meeting the descendants of the HMS Bounty mutineers.  That mutiny actually occurred in 1789.  Marlon Brando’s movie will not be made until 1962.

Picture being stationed for years on a tiny coral sliver where sailors are so bored they become suicidal.  Picture refusing love and happiness because of the race of your love’s children.  Picture giving up everything you know for love.  Picture storming a beach to conquer an island.  Picture startling and ancient religious ceremonies.  Picture a military cemetery on a small, remote island in the middle of the South Pacific.  Picture more.

Michener is able to make characters and settings become visual images for his reader who sees, in his mind’s eye, the glorious beauty of this infamous theater of war.  Get to know the characters, the way they look, and more importantly, the way they think and develop throughout the book.

Michener presents a cross-section of humanity—from the rich to the poor, from the sophisticated to the simple, from the wise to the ignorant, and from the good to the bad.

Can you tell that I am a long-lived Michener fan?

Here’s another plus.  This Michener novel is not one of his long ones; it runs about 300 pages which is just perfect as a travel companion.  Tales of the South Pacific is a book well worth reading for enjoyment but which will deepen your understanding as well.  What can be better?

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OUR LAST DAY--EILAT TO TEL AVIV--TRAVEL TO REMEMBER

Leaving as few sights unseen as possible, even the last travel day of our Margaret Morse Tour is filled with wonder.  It is time to return for our evening flights home from Tel Aviv.  But just in case we still feel the urge for remembrances, we leave the beautiful Hilton Eilat Queen of Sheba Hotel and head for the Eilat Stone Factory where we see the stonecutter working with Israel’s national stone, malachite, often referred to as a cousin of turquoise.  It’s beautiful.

view from our room--but we were in Petra, Jordan on the full day here and did not enjoy these amenities

Watching the stonecutter transform the rough stone into a polished gem is fascinating.  Maybe mesmerizing is a better word as I do not leave the Stone Factory without a beautiful pair of earrings. 

As our bus roars through the desert to our next stop, we see what Israel has done to make the desert bloom.  In the 1990s, embankments were created near wadis, which are gullies, streambeds or valleys that are dry except in the rainy season, and trees were planted.  Now those trees are beginning to come together to form forests in the desert.  It is truly an amazing sight to behold when contrasted with the usual tan barrenness of the Negev Desert.  On a sad note, today I wonder if the rich greenness was destroyed in Israel's devastating forest fires.

We stop for lunch at a palm oasis as we head toward Beer Sheva, Israel’s third largest city, the place where Abraham settled in 2,000 BCE and which King David made a part of Israel.  It is too bad we did not have an opportunity to visit this ancient city where there is a weekly Bedouin market, and one can still buy camels and sheep.  Indeed, 27,000 Bedouins still call the Negev their home.  This would be a must-see on a return trip.

THAT'S A CAMEL CROSSING SIGN

Then we follow the road south through the central Negev through Mitzpe Ramon, often referred to as a crater but which is actually the world’s largest "machtesh," a valley surrounded by steep walls and drained by a single wadi or riverbed. 

THE VAST EMPTINESS IS AWESOMELY HANDSOME

THESE ARE THE WALLS OF THE MACHTESH

Picture this:  Mitzpe Ramon started forming when the oceans that once covered the Negev began to recede leaving rocks estimated to be 220 MILLION YEARS OLD.  Obviously it is an archeologist’s dream for it is filled with fossils and other ancient remains of civilizations that once inhabited this area.  Indeed, the word "ramon" refers to the Romans. Look at this vast wilderness. 

But remember this is the 21^st century, and modern man has modern ideas.  Rappelling from these steep walls is a sport these days. 

I DID NOT HAVE TO BE WARNED ABOUT THIS CLIFF EDGE

Visiting athletes require accommodations, and there is plenty of construction going on along the rim.  

Remember the Nabateans of Petra who knew how to deal with this environment because they understood how to conserve water?  (http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2011/06/jordan-and-petra-part-i.html) Our next stop is Avdat National Park, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, named after a Nabatean king.  It was the Nabateans, builders of Petra, who created a city here in the midst of a desert. 

Along the way, however, we get to see some wild mountain gazelles, Israel’s national animal.  Cute.  They were just walking in, taking in the tourist sights—us.

As we approach the National Park, we see one of Avdat’s remaining structures atop a hill.  Buildings like these were probably used as lookouts for caravans along this important trading route.  Alongside the structure is a long, dark, metal sculpture of an approaching caravan.  From far away it  looks almost real.  It’s impressive, and it piques my interest and imagination.

Today, in addition to the historical data, there is an experimental farm to study the way ancient peoples developed agriculture in the desert.  If ancient man knew how to tame this vast barren land, then Israel might have something to learn in order to house her growing population.

The Nabateans were conquered by the Romans who did not develop further, but later the Byzantines brought Christianity to the area.  A Byzantine church remains on the site.  When the Muslims conquered the area in the seventh century, development ground to a halt, and the area remained that way until the British took over from the Ottoman Empire.  Roads were paved from Beersheva to Eilat, and a new era began.

Most of the remaining structures, however, are not Nabatean but are Roman or Byzantine.  Still pretty impressive to me. 

Our next stop is Kibbutz Sde Boker where David Ben Gurion made his home in 1953 after retirement as Israel’s first Prime Minister.  He is buried here, and on his grave are two birthdates.  His real one was in Poland in 1888.  The second is when he came to Israel in 1906 which for him was a true birth.

DAVID BEN GURION'S VIEW ACROSS THE NEGEV

David Ben Gurion is considered the architect of Israel.  He took Hertzl’s Zionist ideas and made them a reality by organizing the Haganah (military), schools, and other necessities of a country. 

Ben Gurion immigrated to Israel in 1906 where he began his new life organizing unions.  The Ottomans expelled him.  He came to New York, and he fell in love with American Democracy.  People come here to study, and Ben Gurion's papers are in the Heritage Center here.

Ben Gurion walked the walk.  When he retired, the people on the kibbutz wanted him to live with the special status he’d earned, but he insisted on living in a hut and working in the fields as all members of the kibbutz did.  He did not stop working in the fields until he became ill and unable to continue.

The view from his burial site overlooks the Negev, the place he envisioned eventually in bloom and home to many.  That dream is yet to be realized, but research goes on to make the dream a reality.

BEAUTIFUL DESOLATION

Sde Boker is certainly the intellectual climax of the day, but the emotional climax is arranged by Wendy Morse.  Once again she has reserved a restaurant, and we share a final dinner with our tour-mates back in Tel Aviv before we part ways and head to our individual post-tour destinations. 

Thank you, Margaret Morse Tours.  Thank you Wendy Morse who accompanied us every step of the way and arranged special days and nights—dancing and music and entertainment, special presents—beautiful mezuzahs by an Israeli artist, special moments—our Bar and Bat Mitzvahs on Mt. Scopus with its panoramic views of Jerusalem, and even cds of the music we heard.  Thank you David, Alan, and the other guides for your encyclopedic and enthusiastic presentations.  Thank you for the new friends we made. Thank you Israel.   

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GOOD READ, I GUARANTEE--KATHRYN STOCKETT'S---THE HELP

I'm not sure Kathryn Stockett's The Help will be the new American classic, but I am sure that its theme resonates within its readers' hearts and minds.  It is an  important theme, and Stockett's treatment is unusual, propelling this first novel from the ordinary to #1 on the NYTimes bestseller list.  It may be possible to count literature's great themes on one's fingers, but the superior writer is able to tackle her theme in a unique way.  Kathryn Stockett does this; the result is The Help is a tough book to put down.

The “help” of the title are the black women who historically took care of the South's white families and were treated as non-existent even as they moved through the rooms of those white families' homes.  The Help is set in Jackson, Mississippi, a city which gained fame during the Civil Rights period of the early 1960s.  Its main characters are three extraordinary women who buck the system, perhaps through fate rather than by choice, and emerge stronger and more independent.  The Help is also a book about women, regardless of race, coming into their own. Stockett's skillful development of these women's personalities raises them above stereotypes and allows each to emerge as a complete individual reacting to her times and situation in a personal manner.

Stockett's exposition comes through the voice of each character's immediate predicament.  We enter the homes of white women in their early 20s who were raised by black women and now hire them to serve in their homes and raise their children. It's a strange relationship not easily understood by those of us totally unfamiliar with the South of the 1960s. We're made to understand a little better through our main characters, a white twenty-two year old, Skeeter, and two very different black women, Aibileen and Minny.

We are reminded of the time, 1963 and 1964, through the rock 'n roll of the era and the Civil Rights events that occur, events I distinctly remember but only with the eyes of a Northern teenager.  Incredible as it may seem, as I read I began to see how whites could live both in the midst and apart from the incidents occurring around them.  These white women's daily interactions with the black help did not change. Fully expecting the status quo to remain, they remain blinded to the historical changes occurring in their own back yards.  Stockett does not stereotype southern women. The white women react to situations individually and according to their individual strengths and convictions.

The reactions of the black women are equally believable.  Depending on their circumstances, their reactions differ.  Their jobs and their livelihood are crucial, so how much they can be part of the Civil Rights movement happening around them varies from individual to individual.  It's easy to say everyone should be involved; it's quite another thing when one’s livelihood is threatened by that involvement.

The individuality of each woman—black or white—is essential to the theme.  We react as we do because we are all equal in our individuality.

If this were all there was to The Help, it would not have made the leap into a first rate book.  Kathryn Stockett took each situation whether it involved class, marriage, civil rights, freedom, or understanding and skillfully made parallels between the black and white characters in the book.  We are exposed to the complexity of relationships, the complexity of race, and the consequences of not dealing honestly, fairly, and openly with one another.  We all bear the burdens caused by these shortcomings in society.  We share a common humanity, for good or bad.

The Help is set nearly 50 years ago.  Times have changed and so have some situations.  But not everything has changed.  It is important, periodically, to be reminded of how far we still have to go. Kathryn Stockett gently but firmly urges us to be better.

The Help will be out as a movie this August.

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