The Twenty Dollar Tune
When 1982 rolled around I was in my second year at the SC
Tax Commission. From the start I had known the job was a
stop-gap and if I stayed too long I would be bogged down and
maybe even stuck. I sensed the danger in getting too comfortable
and started looking for a way out.
I found an opportunity in the exciting, fairly new field of
"computer programming." How that came about will be worthy
of another article or even a series. For now it will suffice
to say I got some training over the summer and in the fall
I found a programming job in Greenville. That meant that
I had to leave Columbia but the good news was Greenville is
where I'd spent my four years of college so I knew my way
around and had some friends there.
There was an arts and crafts show at the big coliseum in town
a few weeks after I moved. One of the guys I played music
with knew the people who ran it and arranged for us to play
there. It would be informal so we would basically be busking
but indoors instead of on a street corner.
There were three of us. One was a college friend who had also
recently returned to Greenville. The other was fairly new in
town but he had found his way into the music scene. We all
played in a band with some other friends.
No busking set-up is complete without a receptacle for the
money that surely will be showered upon the people who devote
their time to enteraining the public, am I right? One of the
guys brought a goofy-looking top hat and set it out with a
sign that read:
Rent
Electricity
Groceries
Now, that may or may not be funny. It raised a chuckle from
more than one of the passersby. It should be noted that the
guy who brought the hat was a building contractor just getting
settled into what became a successful career. The other guy
was an engineer and his spouse was a health care professional.
I was just starting out at my new career in computer programming,
and it's worth mentioning that my salary had doubled when I
left the Tax Commission and started the new job. Covering
"rent, electricity, groceries" was probably not going to be
an issue for any of us, whether the hat remained empty or
was overflowing at the end of the day. We kind of kept that
to ourselves, of course. But people who knew any one of us
got the joke, I'm sure.
As the afternoon wore on we played in various spots around
the building. People would stop and listen, then move on.
The hat was not so empty anymore.
Then there was this one guy. We were playing a fiddle tune
called "Bull at the Wagon." I think I had just learned it
and was kind of breaking it in so to speak. We played and
when we finished the tune this guy held up a twenty dollar
bill and asked, "Would y'all play that one again?" as he
threw the twenty into the hat.
Needless to say, we cheerfully obliged.
At the end of the day I used my share of the haul to buy
a ceramic vase from one of the artisans. It was intended for
kitchen utensils and came with a matching spoon rest and set
of wooden spoons, stirrers, and whatnot. I still use it forty
years later.
And for the next couple of years we made a point of playing
"Bull at the Wagon" nearly everywhere we went, hoping for
lightning to strike again.
True story.
This is one of the early recordings of the tune we played,
possibly the earliest. It has some idiosyncracies which set
it apart. I still enjoy playing and hearing it. Twenty dollars
or no.
The Lewis Brothers - Bull At The Wagon
Recorded in 1929
Suggested reading:
My First Time at Greenfield
In which I find a new home. Metaphorically speaking.
I Can Quit Whenever I Want To
In which I kick the coffee habit. Until about lunch time.
Full Moon Over Peterborough
In which Bob shows the dancers what he's made of.
Perhaps Samuel Butler was right
In which I learn that "on the job training" is not always the best choice.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen... Grab yer partners!
Caller Bernie Chalk came not to bury Caesar but to do-si-do with him.
Some experience required.
You never forget your first time.
Time Travel!
Return to those days of yesteryear
The $20 Fiddle Tune
We're not in it for the money, but neither do we turn it down.
Is That Guy Okay?
A case of mistaken identity.
Every Fiddle Has a Story...
... but they can't talk.
Mmm, Ham...
In which Pete and I rely on the kindness of strangers.
Not Sure Who Won But I Can Tell You Who Lost
In which I wind up with farm fresh historically accurate Colonial-era egg on my face.
Happy New Year
In which the New Year creeps in on little cat feet.