Rule #1: Never Trust Someone You Can’t Get Drunk With
I was at a local jam when Jimmy plucked the opening chords of Wayfaring Stranger and gave me the nod to sing. I opened my mouth and before a note could slide out of its cozy nest I heard Andy shout, “Why is she singing again!” I’m used to him making snarky comments when I sing my so I held my peace (which is not the same thing as holding my tongue, thank you very much). I winked at a guy on the other side of the circle to let him know it was all good and listened to Jimmy tell Andy why I was singing, still my shoulders got a little tight, my breathing a little shallower. Then Andy did the unexpected, he turned to me and said, “It’s nothing personal,” and he was right, it wasn't. Andy is a banjo player, a picker. He likes to play fiddle songs. I’m a singer. I like to sing, preferably with a little bluesy rhythm. I felt my shoulders relax and my breathing deepen and just like that what ever resistance I had melted. I knew it wasn...