Lancaster Music Festival (part 6…)
There’s a scabby old dog sitting at the bar. It doesn’t look like it belongs to anyone. Maybe it is part of the fixtures and fittings of the pub? The dog looks up at me but I’m distracted by the tanned bosoms in my eye line. Temptation and conscience right next to each other and I haven’t even had the first drink of the day.
My first drink is called Lancaster Amber and I’m glad to make its acquaintance. I’m also glad to make the musical acquaintance of Butch Ross. Curiosity had got the better of me as he plays an electric dulcimer and I haven’t heard an electric dulcimer before. You see, sometimes he plays it like a dulcimer and sometimes he plays it like a guitar. Should be interesting. The dulcimer has a somewhat melancholic sound that kind of drifts around you and perhaps to compensate for that, Butch Ross actively encourages audience participation. It’s not too hard to get everybody in the mood on a Sunday afternoon and he chooses to end his set with an effective reinterpretation of a couple of popular Beatles songs. He’s a long way from Chattanooga but he’s a welcome visitor.
The dog is still looking at me. Its eyes have the sadness of age. The dog asks me if I am a hellraiser or a man of conscience. The dog knows the answer but I’m still running from the Devil.