Eleventh Letter to You of 2007

December is the last month of fall and brings the first days of winter. December is when every religion borrows from some previous religion and celebrates a holiday. December will be the month of my next oil change as I traverse Interstate 90 betwixt Boston and Buffalo every week leading up to the solstice.

Get the word out, friend. There are some great shows to talk about: every Tuesday in Cambridge with Tom Bianchi, Danielle Miraglia, Ryan Fitzsimmons, Dana Price and Jim Larkin at the Lizard Lounge for the Winter Wonder Band Sessions; every Saturday in Buffalo at Madame Mocha's with varioius special guests, including Tom Bianchi, Ookla the Mok and Trevor Mills; Friday December 21 debuting at Banjo Jim's in NYC with Anthony da Costa and Red Molly's Abbie Gardner; Sunday December 9 at the Club Passim in Cambridge for a headlining split bill with Chris Chandler.

This last show will be recorded for possible release as a live album.

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It's been an interesting month. I have not had the upper range of my vocals since Sunday October 28. After three solid weeks of shows in Arkansas, Oklahoma and Texas, the five notes above middle C that had been my top end, well, they've fallen and can't get up. My falsetto is there, but it's not supposed to start at C sharp.

What all this means is this: the chorus to "Hard Kisser," can't sing it; the melody to "Driver" and "Another Town," have to play 'em in lower keys; "Novocain" is in a lower key, or sung in a harmony to the actual melody; in "You Don't Rock and Roll," there is no woo hoo.

Ever notice, when you have an ailment, how ev'rybody becomes a doctor?

Everyone I know has had advice. After two weeks of tea, tea with honey and lemon, steam, acupuncture, Pang Da Hi, water, rest (days of not talking nor singing), licorice, slippery elm, no dairy, no caffeine, no alcohol, no smoking... come on... name something else.

After two weeks of every loving suggestion you can think of, I was plain old scared. Scared that I had need for surgery. No insurance. Not cool. I was in Boston.

Tom Bianchi had vocal trouble a few years ago and was making some suggestions all along that I heeded, but not fully. Finally, off the road, at my wits' end and in Boston for a couple days, I looked up a world renowned doctor who invited my uninsured ass in for a free vocal cord examination.

My throat was sprayed to numb my gag reflex, my tongue held and a camera pushed into my larynx. I was asked to sing "Eeeeeeee," and I did the best I could with a numbed throat, a held tongue and a camera in my throat.

After a few minutes, I was looking at the computer screen with the doctor and was offered a huge dose of peace of mind: no nodes nor polyps... no need for surgery.

Lots of redness though. Tom's suspicion was right. Acid reflux was messing with my vocals. I didn't even know I had it. I've never felt discomfort, but it may just be that I didn't notice. These things vary from person to person.

The doc had been kind enough to see me free of charge, but wasn't about to prescribe anything to the uninsured. He suggested acid reflux and that was enough of a hint. Tom had experienced this exact thing. A couple of days later, I purchased an over the counter med just in time for tour with Tom and Ryan Fitzsimmons. After three weeks without the high notes, I wasn't expecting a miricle. I was simply starting a recovery.

One week into the med taking (by the way, I detest taking anything, but I'm desperate to get better at this point), I have recovered a whole step. I still have one and a half musical steps to gain back, but I am encouraged.

It's been frustrating to not be able to do something that I've become accustomed to doing with ease. It's also been rewarding in an odd way.

The show must go on and it has. I've had to figure out what I can and can not sing. I've worked with what I have to work with. I haven't a clue when or if I'll fully recover. I really hope I do. I've learned a lot about how to better take care of my instrument. Another lesson from life. Pesky lessons.

I worked so long to be able to sing a certain way. I have to do what I can to get back to that. What a thing: to spend a decade looking for my voice and finding it only to have it go. I don't accept this. I need a little more time yet. Really, I have my sites set on the first week of December in time for the shows at the Lizard and Club Passim.

Wish me luck.

~ gK ~

* * * * * * * * * * * http://www.cdbaby.com/all/gregklyma * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tenth Letter to You of 2007

Okemah, OK is the home of the Woody Guthrie Folk Festival. Six miles south of the I-40 exit for Okemah is the Grape Ranch - a winery. One of over forty in the state of Oklahoma. On Sunday October 21, I played music there from 2 til 6pm. Then, I stuck around.

Later in the previous week, when I had been in Tulsa, I recorded an interview for the Folk Salad radio show. Tulsa radio reaches Okemah. Rather than drive back to Oklahoma City right after my gig, I wanted to linger around to hear how the interview got editted.

Friends who had drove from Norman to see me play stuck around, too. They asked if I was hungry. 9 times out of 10 the answer to this question is yes. The odds were spot on. I was, indeed, hungry.

Okemah doesn't offer the options that, say, a city like Austin or Boston does for food. One's choices are limited. After pulling into the "pasta place" parking lot, we changed our minds and headed over to the "home-style cooking" place. Sonic and Subway were never part of the discussion.

Once inside and seated, we were greeted by Amanda. After Amanda took down our drinks, we asked if there was a radio that we could listen to. Amanda informed that she'd have to check. When she returned, she informed us of where the salad bar was and that there was no radio. "Sorry."

Bonnie was the first to investigate the salad bar. When she came back to the table she was a little excited: "There's a radio in there." A trip to the salad bar confirmed that our friend Amanda had been misinformed back there in the kitchen.

The dial on the radio was a little hard to read. We eyeballed the general location of the station, but I made a trip out to my van to confirm. Soon after, the voices of Richard Higgs and Scott Aycock were filling the room as we tuned into KWGS, 89.5, for a little Folk Salad as we ate, well, salad.

20 or so minutes into the show, the interview with me started up. I opened with "Another Town." Amanda entered the room while this was happening. Bonnie asked Amanda "Do you know who that is?" Amanda did not. Bonnie and Dana pointed at me. "That's Greg Klyma." Amanda listened. Amanda looked at me. Amanda listened some more.

Turning to me she said: "You're really good."

Amanda exited.

We ate.

The interview continued.

Amanda returned.

Now, I was either singing "Chat It Up" or "Driver." Amanda marveled. It was still good and still on. This was ultimately about 35 minutes of radio time. Very nice. Amanda now had the realization that she was in the presence of somebody famous. I write this as such because Amanda said:

"I've never had anyone famous in here before."

Amanda was now flustered. Bonnie, Dana and Dana's daughters were now giddy. I was now a little embarrassed and listening as best I could for the edits. It really turned out to be a good interview. Yea, Scott Aycock.

Dana, the head of my fan club, suggested I go get some postcards from my van. Great idea. I did this and she had me sign a couple of 'em. Then, she left the room to give them to Amanda. Minutes later, Amanda entered the dining room:

"Um, could I, um, ask you a favor? Would you write on here 'Happy Birthday Amanda'?"

As it turned out, Amanda would turn 21 sometime in the next 30 hours. Of course I could write happy birthday. Give me that card!

Amanda, overcome and flustered, once again left our company. Dana, Bonnie and the girls delighted. I finished my Chicken Fried Chicken.

It was like Elvis had walked into this little diner. The reaction was a little over the top, but fun all round. Soon after, we left the building.

I wasn't present when Dana gave Amanda a copy of DRIVER for her birthday, but I'm told the girl was on the verge of tears. I'm still waiting for our waitress to create a MySpace profile so that we can be friends. If I could have the whole evening to live over again, I would order the peanut butter and banana sandwich.

~ gK ~

* * * * * * * * * * * http://www.cdbaby.com/all/gregklyma * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ninth Letter to You of 2007

Today, at Dictionary.com, this was the word of the day:

physiognomy \fiz-ee-OG-nuh-mee; -ON-uh-mee\, noun:
1. The art of discovering temperament and other characteristic qualities of the mind from the outward appearance, especially by the features of the face.
2. The face or facial features, especially when regarded as indicating character.
3. The general appearance or aspect of a thing.

I've been down on song contests and contests that judge something as subjective as art, music or the like, in general. So, earlier this year, I didn't send any songs in. There's a company that has a monopoly on Electronic Press Kit (EPK) submissions. They have a somewhat exclusive relationship with a lot of festivals and contests. I'm not into that neither, so, I haven't submitted anything through them.

About a month ago, with encouragement, I submitted "Two Degrees in Buffalo" to the Eureka Springs Folk Festival song contest (the alluded to company is not involved). It's a long song. I thought "no way." Well, I was wrong. On Saturday October 13, I will perform in the song contest. Must remember to not get my hopes up.

I'll be in Eureka Springs most of the weekend. I have three performances in town the weekend of the 60th Annual Folk Festival. One, on Thursday, is the same night that Riders in the Sky perform. I am hoping to see some of their set. Those guys are amazing talents. It will be a real treat, should I get to their show. Rootin' tootin' cowboy fun.

As a child in a family that hunted, I had shot guns before. Starting, as many do, with a BB gun and moving up to 22 rifles and shotguns eventually. Though I tried it, I never took to hunting, but targets and skeet shooting were fun activities.

I've a friend who is a gun enthusiast. He took me with him today to the shooting range. We shot at targets and pop cans. I was reminded of the John Prine lyric in "Paradise" about how "empty pop bottles was all we would kill."

The first shots I fired today, appropriately enough, were on the Ruger 10/22. I was wearing plenty of ear protection and sitting in a way to prop my arm and steady my aim. At 50 yards out, the pop cans were no match. Aluminum is always in season.

We next took turns on a Swiss issue Army rifle from 1896. It's a 7.5 milimeter riffle with a powerful kick. Even with the ear protection on, there was a sonic wave that penetrated with each firing. At first I was observing. Then, I fired my rounds.

This rifle wasn't sited as well as the first. It took a few shots to figure it out, but looking through the scope and aiming low, I managed to hit what I had desired. Tricky.

There is a mathematical process to dialing in the sites. It would have to wait for another day and for more ammunition.

The third gun of the excursion was the AR-15. You've probably heard of the military weapon called the M-16. This is the civilian version of that gun. This scope was completely dialed in. At 50, 75 and 100 yards, we did not miss. There is something exhilarating about hitting a bull's eye from 100 yards out.

There's something humbling about missing from 15 yards. When we got to the fourth and final gun of the day, it was easy to see how glorified Hollywood makes everything.

The .45 caliber pistol - model 1911 - is easy to hold. That is about the extent of the ease. After several attempts from 25 yards, it was suggested by my friend that I move a little closer. That I did. My first couple of shots were clearly off the mark, even at this range. Then, I knocked the pop can off its perch. Several attempts later and a second pop can fell.

It takes practice and stamina to be good with a pistol. At this point, my hand was shaking. I didn't feel nervous. I just couldn't hold the weapon anymore. I should say, I couldn't hold it straight anymore. My muscles were giving in. This is not something I do with regularity and I was failing due to fatigue. I gave up the pistol.

My friend cleared the round and we cleaned up after ourselves as a gentle rain began to fall. It was a well-timed venture.

With each gun, I took my time in between shots. I had good trigger discipline, removing my finger from the trigger when not firing. Each weapon had a kick, the second and third rifles in particular. There was no rapid fire shooting like in cop shows or gang movies. We were not pretending to be Rambos. It was a day of respect and discipline...

And learning.

~ gK ~

* * * * * * * * * * * http://www.cdbaby.com/all/gregklyma * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Eighth Letter to You of 2007

Is your telepathic network down? I haven't been able to get through for weeks. I've paid my bills on time so I know it isn't me.

I've been walking a lot lately. I'll bet ya any doctor worth his or her salt would tell you that walking 30 minutes a day is great for your health. It takes me about 30 minutes to walk two miles. I've been walking anywhere from two to five miles a day in Somerville and Cambridge, MA this August.

On Mondays, I walk a couple miles, go swing dancing and then walk back. These are the most tiring days. These are the days I need better shoes. But who has money for orthopedics? Jonathan Byrd's "waitress" does. Perhaps I should friend her on MySpace.

In an effort to buy a good pair of shoes, new tires for my van (which will flip 200,000 miles on the next drive of considerable distance) and a few other items I find myself needing or wanting (like a 70's Fender Princeton ampliphier), I've done a little busking lately. Mostly, I'm just covering the food I eat, but that as good a place to start as any. I like food.

Oh man. Oh boy. Oh... okay, it's not all that.

I made a lasagna the other day. Hadn't attempted this in years. The recipe I had had got misplaced some time ago and, in some fit of habit, I just didn't look up some other one. Recently, the friend I had gotten the original recipe from - which, as it turns out, is from the Moosewood Cookbook - found the recipe herself and emailed it to me. I bought the necessaries and gave it the old college try.

I'm a big fan of a plan coming together. I do not like waste. I often fear - with cooking - that I'll buy a bunch of ingredients, attempt to make a meal and mess it up so badly that I just waste all the money I spent on the stuff and the time it took to make it and still not have a meal. That's my typical concern and argument for not preparing many meals.

The veggie style lasagna came out fantastic. A friend - self-proclaimed "Italian food snob" - had a piece and gave me praise. Happy happy joy. Nice to do something well. It felt a little like writing a good song. Lasagna leaves a lot of room to be creative. I followed the recipe pretty closely, but, at the end, took some liberties with it. Very fun. Very satisfying.

That's what it was like at the Burren last night - Fun and Satisfying. Danielle Miraglia hosts the Songwriter Night in the Back Room at the Burren in Davis Square every Sunday night. The special guests this week were Mike Hastings and Beth Wood. After they both played wonderful sets of music, Danielle played a mini set with Tom Bianchi on bass.

At the end of Danielle's set, she called Beth and I up to sing and play along on her newest "No One Was Listening but the Choir." That transitioned into Tom and I playing for a little bit. We worked on a couple songs that we look to play on Tuesday at Toad, like Tom singing "River Bottom Nightmare Band" from Emmet Otter's Christmas. I just learned Sam Cooke's "What a Wonderful World (Don't Know Much)" and was eager to try it out in front of an audience. So we worked on our bit a little.

Brendan Hogan got up on stage for a couple songs. Man, Brendan has some great tunes and covers really cool blues and R & B songs. I jumped up and played some Telecaster on his version of Chuck Berry's "Maybelline." Just a great time jamming with friends.

Then, as if the night hadn't been satisfying and fun enought, Dwight and Nicole were back in town from Brooklyn for a show. Danielle got them up on stage for three songs to close out the night. Blew the roof off the place. Dwight and Nicole sing so well together. Smooth, daddy-o, smooth. Cerebral silk.

~ gK ~

* * * * * * * * * * * http://www.cdbaby.com/all/gregklyma * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Seventh Letter to You of 2007

Teenager on a skateboard coming down the street into traffic. Car in front of me swerves. I yell out my open window "what the hell d'ya..." and see him in the rearview look back at me with an air of entitlement. A thought starts in my head with the premise "kids today." I stop it and laugh at myself.

Still, if the moran runs into me head on, I have to deal with the insurance... little punk.

This weekend is my niece's christening. I thought for sure that she was going to study Hinduism, but apparently she has decided to follow in her parents' footsteps. Thankfully, I have the weekend free and a friend who works at JetBlue helped out with a Buddy Pass.

The day began in Boston. The flight was scheduled for 9am. That meant getting up a little before 7am in order to ride the trains and buses to the airport to be there at least an hour before departure. So, I went out the night before. I drank responsibly and called it an early night. That was me on the sidewalk yelling - seemingly to no one - "You're an early night!"

"You're an early night!"

At 6:50am the cell phone began to spit and cough that it was time to rise. I got a rise outta that. By 7am I was dressed, eating an apple and making my way to the T. I got on the Red Line in Davis Square, taking it - at a friend's suggestion - to the Silver Line.

I have taken the T from Logan, but this was my first time taking it to the airport. From the airport, I had bussed to the Blue Line, hopped on the Green Line and then connected with the Red at Downtown Crossing (Yes, I think that's it). This Silver Line business looked far more direct.

The Silver Line probably is more direct if you get on the correct bus - SL1. As it happened, your narrator got on SL2. When I realized something was amiss and inquired with the driver (I said something like "Tell me, Driver, where you're driving at?"), he informed me of this whole SL1/SL2 differentiation and, ten minutes later, was dropping me off where SL1 would swing by to pick me up.

The driver on SL1 made a joke about how this transfer was going to cost me $20. Then, he smiled and I fell in with the other riders. I had hoped to be at the airport by 8am. I was going to be on this bus instead.

Shortly - thankfully shortly - after 8am, we were at Logan. There would be three stops before mine. I got off the bus and right into a trot. "Where, oh where, is that Jet Blue counter? Ah, here it is. With a line. A short line moving along. This is fine."

I had the email printed out with all the Buddy Pass info. My friend, however, had not put all the flight info into the computer system. So, the man at the counter had some typing to do. A small delay. I should be fine. As he handed me my boarding pass, he informed me that I'd be flying standby and that the flight was nearly full with only 6 available seats. He suggested I hurry along. Hurry I did.

I was traveling light today (no luggage, my mandolin and some reading materials). The pockets of my carpenter pants were filled with change, my cell phone, my jump drive, ear plugs and keys to various places I've been staying in Boston. Metal.

At the metal detectors, we are asked to remove our shoes and jackets. I was doing this and placing them in the hard plastic bin. As I was emptying the contents of my pockets into their temporary home, the Spanish-speaking airport worker was grabbing my bin. I was placing change in it as she placed it on the conveyor belt. I just dropped my braclet into it as she pushed it into the machine and told me, in English, to walk through.

And I thought I was in a hurry.

Well, I walked through and the machine sounded. I stepped back. I had forgotten my cell phone and my belt. Well, duh. I walked through again. Again, the machine beeped. "Please step over here." Geez!

I had house keys clipped to my belt loop and my ear plugs in my pocket. The ear plugs are in a case that snaps shut with a button. So, with feet shoulder length apart and arms out to the side with palms up, I got a thorough going over. All the snap buttons on my shirt beeped. Delays, delays.

The man doing this apologized profusely. I sympathized with him. "Just doin' your job."

After I stopped setting off alarms and got my sneakers back on, I was off like O.J. Sim.... let's just say I was scurrying through the airport. It was 8:40-ish.

At this counter, I was informed that I was the 6th person in line for standby. At the first counter, word was "nearly full flight with 6 remaining seats." This was as down to it as I'm about comfortable with.

"Now boarding seats 20 through 36..." ...ya know.

They got all the reserved seats boarded and started calling names for standby. Mine was the last name called. I got the last available seat on board Flight 1211. Uncle Greg will be on the scene this Sunday for Emily Grace's baptism.

Can I get an "amen"?

~ gK ~

* * * * * * * * * * * http://www.cdbaby.com/all/gregklyma * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sixth Letter to You of 2007

In September 2005, two women from Arkansas were at the Kerrville Wine and Music Festival to promote the Eureka Springs Folk Festival in October. They had a booth in the main stage area. I went over to ask questions and we hit it off. Big!

Nancy and Karen were of the opinion that I should come up to Eureka for a show. I usually know my schedule pretty well and knew that I had a Sunday coming up in October in nearby Fayetteville. They said I should try to get a Monday in Eureka. I thought "Monday?"

They gave me their individual contact info and got me a few numbers for places in town. They had talked me up with out ever actually seeing me perform. The result: I got booked at Chelsea's on the Monday following my Fayetteville show. Viola! I was in.

That show was great. Nancy and Karen had talked me up to all their friends and packed the place. I was still on high from the fall Kerrville festival and had just played a few shows. On the way up to Fayetteville, I got pulled over in Roland, Oklahoma and had been telling everyone about what just happened.

Tom Bianchi and I are on tour. We are working our way from Boston to Austin. Eventually, out to the ranch for some time at the festival. I took the charge to set up a tour across the country. It's been a whirl - drive 12 hours, play, sleep (or not), drive 12 hours, play...

I made a point of booking us in Eureka Springs. My friend Tom and all my friends in Eureka had to meet and experience one another. It was a good call. Oh, what a time!

We got into town late on Tuesday. We were in Indianapolis, IN on Monday night. Tuesday was a travel day. Thank the maker. It was nice to have a night to chill and get some real sleep before the next performance.

The next performance was a noon on Wednesday in Basin Park. Right there in the center of Eureka Springs is an old school band shell. On a gorgeous afternoon, Tom and I warmed up the already sunny day with our musical Abbott and Costello routine. Then, we had some down time. After a little email checking and food consuming, we ended up at a jam session and played for an hour before our set at Chelsea's was to begin.

It's my experience that trying to describe a show at Chelsea's is next to impossible. The vibe, the energy, the interaction with the assembly... where to find the words?

The beginning of the night was kind of mellow. Everyone would be drunk or tipsy later, but at this point, we were all just easing into the evening. That's what Tom and I did. We opened up with some easy energy. Played the room. I love a bar where folks show up and actually listen to the music. We - Tom and I - were not just background noise.

After a long break and a nice visit with friends, we were all geared up for set two. More people had filtered in now. Tom began the set solo: "Fall Away," "Tom Bianchi dot com" and "Something" by the Beatles. All solo bass. I joined him and we blasted through "Novocain" "Beautiful" (the saddest way) and "Hard Kisser." The room was starting to move.

It's really fun as a musician to see people dancing. To get people dancing. It's particularly fun when they are dancing to a song that you wrote. Chelsea's.

After "Too Far Gone" into "Psycho Killer," Tom and I were ready for another set break. Our friends Maia, Melissa, Adam and Michelle got up there and played a mini set. They knocked it out of the park. I even got up there and joined in with some mandolin. It had turned into a hootenanny.

They finished up to thunder. Blew the roof off the place. Wow! How do you follow that?

I started in with my version of "Material Girl." As it turned out, it was hilarious. I played the intro while standing on a chair in the middle of the room. People sang along. Tom got in on the choruses. Fun fun fun.

Right after it, "One Foot in the Grave." Maia came up and sang on the chorus. Michelle picked up her fiddle and played a long. Tom sang the last verses. We carried it right into "King of the Road." The place was jammin'.

At some point, I told the story about being pulled over on I-40 in Oklahoma. A story that was first heard in this very room. The bar - the bar that had just been stomping and dancing and singing along... the bar that was full on buzzed at that point - got as quiet as a church. Everyone was listening to the story. Everyone was laughing at the punchlines. It was the best time.

We finished up the night the way set two began. I got outta the way and Tom played a couple solo pieces. Everyone danced and sang along. Tom raved all the next day while driving to Lewisville, TX about what a great time he'd had. Everyone he called in Boston, he just went on and on about the show.

Thank you Eureka Springs. Thank you Chelsea's. Thanks for making a home for me and for sharing the love with my dear friend. See y'all down the line.

~ gK ~

* * * * * * * * * * * http://www.cdbaby.com/all/gregklyma * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fifth Letter to You of 2007

Having just read the opening paragraph of the Fourth Letter to You of 2007, I realize that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Last weekend was my first ever NW tour. I played dates in Seattle and Portland. It was great fun.

Today, I'm in "Boston." It's just about my last day in Boston for a while. I was just up in Montpelier for a show. Soon, touring back to TX. Look for Tom and I along the trail in Indianapolis, IN; Eureka Springs, AR; Houston, TX; Austin, TX; again in Eureka; Effingham, IL; Lancaster, OH; Buffalo, NY; the whole tour will begin in Darlington, MD at the Susquehanna Music and Arts Festival - known to friends at SMAF.

Before the drive to Montpelier, I hadn't been online in about three days. I like to take little breaks and it hasn't been impossible to catch up on e-mails after such long weekends. I did have some business to take care of though, so I was looking to get on the Internet when I arrived in Vermont's capital city.

At Langdon Street Cafe, they offer WI-FI to patrons. I'd played the cafe a time or two and like their food. I stopped by as soon as I got to town. Fed the meter and walked inside. Now, where can I find an electrical outlet? I'll sit where I sat last time.

As I was settling into a space, I looked up. An observation: a familiar looking head of hair and an unmistakable tattoo. I walked up behind my friend who still hadn't seen me yet.

"I'd know that tattoo anywhere."

Hands dropping from her laptop...

"Greg? Klyma?"

A turn, a smile, a hug.

"Hello Anais."

Anais Mitchell and I met at the Kerrville Folk Festival in 2003. Our first encounter is a favorite memory of mine. It's short as an introduction and fits the "you had to be there" mode of story telling. It makes me smile when I think of how she made me clear on the correct pronunciation of her first name. I was a fan before I heard her sing a note.

It was great luck to have Anais take part in the DRIVER recording project. That same week, she and I played a gig in Buffalo with Tom Stahl. Ani DiFranco stopped by Nietzsche's that night to check out Anais. Righteous Babe released Anais' THE BRIGHTNESS earlier this year - a fantastic collection of classic stories about this world we live in and portraits of the heart.

As Jonathan Byrd says, "Stop fucking around and buy her album."

At home my niece is close to leaving the hospital and the Buffalo Sabres have successfully competed in two rounds of the playoffs. The family is rooting for the home team to make it all the way to the Stanley Cup and win. It was fun to watch the fifth game against the Rangers with my entire family.

It's been a short visit to the northeast after a delightful debut tour in the northwest. Soon, a drive back to the southwest, including a visit to the Kerrville Folk Festival. On this trip I have new copies of DRIVER (second run). This new run of DRIVER is in a new sequence and includes four bonus tracks previously only available on a bonus EP.

It's a beautiful day in New England. The sun is shining, all the while searing with heat. It's finally spring -full frontal - in the northern United States. I've waited and waited to put away my winter wear and have been tricked a few nice days earlier in April. How nice as I packed for Texas to be digging out my shorts, sandals and tank tops.

Blue skies smiling at me, nothin' but blue skies do I see...

~ gK ~

* * * * * * * * * * * http://www.cdbaby.com/all/gregklyma * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fourth Letter to You of 2007

It's just about my last day in Boston for a while. With the exception of a date that Tom and I played in Montpelier, VT and a weekend roadtrip that got me all the way out to Columbus, OH from Boston to open for Lucy Kaplansky (and have an absolute blast at the Six String Concerts series), I've been in the northeast most of the past 31 days.

When I say "Boston," most of the time I'm refering to Somerville and Cambridge. Occassionally Malden. I haven't spent considerable time in Boston proper. It's kind of like being in Cheektowaga, NY and telling people you're in Buffalo. Same difference.

I've written a song called "Two Degrees in Buffalo." Can't wait to play it for you. It was a few months in the making. Now that it's finished, I find myself playing it every chance I get. Nine verses about the city I was born in.

Growing up, my father was a bowler and would take my brother and I out bowling. Eventually, I'd go on my own. I could bowl for a buck a game. Tuesdays (I think) were 50 cents a game at Park Lane... well, something like that. It was a deal regardless.

I hardly ever bowl anymore. It's not like I was ever very good at it - not like my dad who had a 200 average in his day. I'd come in just above 100 or sometimes as much as 150, 160. Still, it's a fun activity.

My friend Arthur invited me to go candle pin bowling. What? Never heard of it.

So, there are 10 pins like conventional bowling, you roll a ball at them and the object is to knock them all down. Got it. The pins are thinner (thus the name candlepin) and the balls are the size of softballs but hard like an enlarged croquet ball. In any frame, you get three chances (rather than 2 like in other bowling) to knock all the pins down.

In my first game, I scored 89. In game two, 106. That's all the experience I have with it, but I'm hooked. It's actually a new favorite thing to do (despite the fact that I haven't gotten back to it). I had a blast. It'd be fun to show this game to the family... and kick their butts.

Hey, my other new favorite thing to do is go swing dancing. I took lessons every Monday in March. I also went to a couple of social dances. It's gonna take some time to get better at this stuff, but it's a lot of fun. Great exercise too. Very entertaining as well. When I'm not trying and dancing, I'm watching the pros.

Watching a couple that really knows how to dance is one of my favorite things to take in. I love watching someone who is really good at pool in the same way. I know how to dance. I know how to play pool. When there's an expert at work in my presence, I'm enthralled. It's beautiful to watch someone doing what they do best.

~ gK ~

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Third Letter to You of 2007

It was bound to happen sooner or later. For all I know, it's happened several times to the recording. Nothing quite like the live show though.

I was unapologetically tired, but feeling metally wound. After being awake for two straight days in Memphis during the latter half of the Folk Alliance, I had slept all of 5 hours (in my van outside the hotel - classic!) only to wake up and drive all day Sunday. I was breaking up the much longer drive from Memphis to Buffalo by stopping in Columbus on route.

Columbus, Ohio is just about 600 miles from the birthplace of rock 'n' roll. At a predictable mileage per hour and including a couple of rest stops, it took close to 12 hours to make the haul. I had imbibed a vanilla coffee drink that my friend, David, had given me as we said goodbye on the corner of N. Main and Exchange.

This explains why I was feeling wound after 48 wakeful hours, a brief sleep and a half day of driving. Caffeine really has an effect on me.

I arrived in Columbus at 1:30am. Too be specific, I had arrived at my friend Eric's house at 1:30am. Eric came out to greet me and help carry stuff. He had an expression I couldn't place on his face.

Eric is a really kind and jovial man. We had been in contact days earlier and he was very open to having me as a guest. There's a softness and something comforting about the tambre of his voice. When I first called to check in with him from the road, he was heading off to a rehearsal. He suggested I call back when I got a little closer.

Around 10pm, I called Eric. He sounded distracted. I thought he may still be rehearsing. I'm still not sure about that part, but he was definitely distracted. He suggested I call back again later for directions. Check.

Around midnight-thirty, I got the directions. Eric sounded even more distracted. I was in my own zone. It all rolled right off. I drove the last leg of the ride with a Merle Haggard cassette playing the songs of my teenage years. Upon arrival, I called from the alley where Eric filled me in.

"Man, I've got two girls inside who don't want anything to do with me, but they're really into one another."

"Huh." I grabbed my bag of clothes. Eric grabbed my instruments. We walked to the house.

Inside, sure enough, two girls, one sitting on a piano bench, the other kneeling on the floor, lip-locked and loving life. They giggled. Eric introduced us. I said hello. They giggled again.

Earlier in the night, they had all been drinking Jeremiah Weed and singing Townes Van Zandt songs. Eric asked me if I know any Townes. I replied that I did. He handed me his guitar. I played "Loretta." They sang along.

"Do you know any other ones?"
"Well, I know 'Pancho & Lefty,' but everyone does it."
"Yeah, don't play that one. What else?"
"Well, I know this one."

I put the capo on the 5th fret and played "If I Needed You." One of the girls sighed. Then, they made eye contact. Then... well, I not one to watch kissing and tell, but it got hot in there. After the weekend I had had and the driving I had just done, this all seemed like a grand hallucination. I like to think it'll be featured in the movie of my life. Eric and I stepped outside for some fresh air.

You've likely gathered from my material that I'm a lover, not a fighter. I came back inside felling that this moment had been calling to me all my life and now - on the cusp of the critical moment - the treshold of critical mass - the climax of the rising action - I had to go for it. I will wish forever that someone had video taped what happened next.

For my part, I played "Hard Kisser."

~ gK ~

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Second Letter to You of 2007

It's snowing in Buffalo. It's late January. That's right, kids, you heard it here first. Snow, Buffalo, January. Good thing you're sitting down.

You are sitting down, aren't you? You're not standing? Using the computer while standing? I won't stand for it. Sit your butt down right now and be a real hipster.

I had me a good time with friends and hipsters in Maryland this past weekend. If you're a friend of mine on MySpace, I've blogged about it: "Angels in Annapolis."

The weekend began with a house concert in Columbia, MD. My friends Henry and Jonie (and son James) invited guests to their place. It was cool and quaint. 10 or so friends gathered in a room (Henry, Jonie and James have a small place) and I played two sets.

Wherever two or more gather, there the spirit lies. We had some real magic moments. A glimpse: my friend Erin (the painter) requested "Ex-Girlfriends/Ex-Wives." I sang the first line - "Ex-girlfriends cost less money than ex-wives" - and all the girls in the room (this was SO cute) wrapped their arms around or held hands with their boyfriends or husbands. That's what I'm talkin' about: bringin' people together.

It worked out that I could break up the ride back to Buffalo with a stop in State College, PA. I got to visit with a couple of friends there and watch the Indianapolis Colts defeat the New England Patriots in what had to be as good as any Super Bowl game ever... being only the AFC playoffs.

The Colts were having their asses handed to them in the first half. The Pats went to the locker room with a commanding lead. The Manning offense picked it up a few notchs in the second half and the momentum began to shift. A couple of key defensive plays and - wha'd'ya know? - the Colts came out on top.

My friends and I were really impressed with the athleticism of the Indy team. They really hunkered down an worked for the victory. Of course, in his speech accepting the trophy, the owner of the team (and then the head coach) gave all the glory to God and "the Lord."

Hmmm. I have a hard time believing that God had it in for the Patriots and their fans. Yes, I'm gonna take a hardline with this one and say that God keeps Its hands out of football. It's all about free will and individual effort. Whether your coach and owner want to give you credit or not, good hustle Peyton Manning. Consider this a cyber slap on the ass.

I almost always change my oil myself. Often, a friend assists me with getting my tires rotated. Today, I'm having the work done for me. It's wintery out there and I haven't got a garage of my own. Given the time it would take, the cold, the possible frustration of working in the snow and wind... this is like the best thirty dollars I've ever spent.

I've been informed that I am all set. Love the laptop. Love the waiting room. Love you.

Thanks for stopping by.

~ gK ~

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First Letter to You of 2007

Tonight is mysterious. Things have been strange. There is a full moon and I'm copping out. It must be the reason for the bizarre nature of things this eve. I accept it.

It's impossible to travel this land, gaze upon a full moon and not think about Austin and Leeann Atherton's Barn Dances. There is a party this weekend in central Texas. Of course, that will be true in Boston as well, as it is my birthday weekend and here I sit.

My last weekend in Austin was a party. Everything I love about Austin was taking place in my last days there: a barn dance, bike riding, disc golf, traveling friends in town, good live music, good food in good company, playing gigs, dancing with beautiful women...

...narrator drifts...

The persistance of thought, the unavoidable awareness of fiscal challenge, the approach of the holy daze, the farewell to Austin, TX, the unknowing... December was a real challenge. Global warming kept the temps up in the northeast though, so at least one could acclimate one's self back to the colder climates at a reasonable pace.

Fifty degrees is fifty degrees. In the winter it's warm. In the summer you freeze.

James Brown died and life went on as usual in white American neighborhoods. Gerald Ford died and we all got a national day of recognition - the post offices were closed and flags were flown at half mast. President Bush couldn't resist paying respects to the other non-elected American executive while once again showing us that he has no soul.

Ow! that felt good.

I knew that it would, now.

I saw a "bluegrass" band in Buffalo on the Thursday after Christmas and they played a version of "I Feel Good" with a guest saxophonist. I saw a hip hop band on New Year's Eve and they didn't play anything by the Godfather of Soul - the most sampled artist in recording history. This is a strange and beautiful land we live in, we Americans.

All of a sudden I have the melody to "Our House" going through my head. It's either the full moon again or the bump on my head. Ah, Gram Nash.

My father's mother has dimentia. The day after Christmas I asked her if she was looking forward to Christmas. She didn't realize it had just happened. Ah, gramma.

I was at Sportsmen's Tavern the night Saddam Hussein was hanged. Someone remarked about him being well hung. Ah, grammar.

I have a bump on my head and a cut on my finger. There's a full moon tonight and I'm staying indoors for the rest of it. I wonder what it's full of. I know what I'm full of.

TOUR DATES

08.16 :: Cambridge, MA
08.17 :: N. Kingston, RI
08.19 :: Cambridge, MA
08.21 :: NYC
08.22 :: Philly
08.23 :: Shady Side, MD
08.26 :: Cambridge, MA
08.28 :: Burlington, VT
08.29 :: Manchester, VT
08.31 :: Cambridge, MA
09.02 :: Johnson, VT
09.05 :: Stowe, VT
09.06 :: Middlebury, VT
09.09 :: Johnson, VT
09.13 :: Bay Shore, NY
09.16 :: Johnson, VT
09.19 :: Buffalo, NY
09.20 :: PRIVATE EVENT
09.25 :: Ithaca, NY
09.26 :: Binghamton, NY
09.27 :: Pittsburgh, PA
09.28 :: Lock Haven, PA
10.01 :: Portsmouth, NH
10.02 :: Plattsburgh, NY
10.03 :: Manchester, VT
10.04 :: Johnson, VT
10.09 :: Williamsport, PA
10.10 :: Roanoke, VA
10.12 :: Asheville, NC
10.13 :: Athens, GA
10.17 :: Auburn, AL
10.18 :: Sautee-Nacoochee, GA
10.19 :: Decatur, GA
10.20 :: Decatur, GA
10.21 :: Greensboro, NC
10.22 :: Knoxville, TN
10.23 :: Knoxville, TN
10.24 :: Chattanooga, TN
10.26 :: Murphysboro, IL
10.30 :: Jackson, MO
10.31 :: Lupus, MO
11.01 :: Berryville, AR
11.02 :: Tulsa, OK
11.04 :: Norman, OK
11.06 :: Eureka Springs, AR
11.07 :: Eureka Springs, AR
11.08 :: Eureka Springs, AR
11.13 :: NERFA
11.14 :: NERFA
11.15 :: Philadelphia, PA
11.22 :: Ithaca, NY
11.29 :: Buffalo, NY
12.06 :: Saratoga Springs, NY
12.08 :: Annapolis, MD
12.10 :: Columbia, MD
12.13 :: Wellsville, NY

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