The Valleyist Papers
A COLLECTION OF ESSAYS WRITTEN IN FAVOUR OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF STEPHENS VALLEY
Author – William Ray
Edition 4. Issue 7.
This issue of The Valleyist takes a turn from what we’ve been doing in the past. I’m using first person, which is a departure, and I'm using it to discuss a topic that has little to do with living in SV. This might not interest anyone at all, but here goes.
Four years ago, I retired from a career in the electric utility world. I had not planned to retire, and no plans were made for what was to come next. So, I was embarking on a voyage of discovery looking for what exists outside of career. I had no experience of life without a plan, and I was not excited about the journey.
The first stop on my voyage was a new home in Stephens Valley, where I could easily immerse myself in contact with family while maintaining contact with many of my friends from my life in Glasgow, Kentucky. So, my journey got off to a great start. But as often happens when one embarks on a great adventure, unexpected things, wonderful things, materialized. Those included some great new friends here in SV, and full immersion in music also popped up along the way, since music is part of the fabric of life here. This issue is written mainly to recount what I've learned so far.
Something happened to me in early 2024, when I became inspired to stop being just a music spectator and become a participant. Having nothing going for me but the desire, I found my way to Bandwagon Music in Bellevue, where I bought my first guitar since middle school. They also offered me lessons; and I began to learn some things about my purchase. I practiced every day, and after a few months, I summoned the courage to step out on my balcony and play the guitar to, whomever might be walking by. The next segments of my journey had begun.
I thought I was only amusing myself by learning a few chords which allowed me to mimic some of my music heroes, but I was wrong. The journey's physical level included buying guitars (hey, the first one was lonely, and I owed it some friends), downloading music charts, and trying to perform some songs. Performance required maintenance on the guitars, and I became a student of the craftmanship involved in harvesting wood, forming the wood, adding talent and hardware, and making guitars, ukeleles, banjos, cellos, fiddles and the like. I thought it was just about making and maintaining these instruments and that they were inanimate objects -- just tools to use in making music. But I was wrong.
The voyage continued to take me to new places, and I was swept right along into new outlooks on most everything. Once the lyrics I had been singing in the shower wrong for many decades were revealed, the poetry that birthed them became visible. Chiseling into that poetry began to reveal the amazing lives of the songwriters and performers associated with the music of my life. The process went like this. I heard, or remembered, music that stirred me. I downloaded the music for guitar and began the process of learning to pIay it. During that process I was moved to study the story behind the writing of the song, because to be honest, I just could not, and cannot, imagine how any of that forms in the heads of these artists and comes out of their fingers and voices. Often, I found that they weren't even sure how it happens, but it seems that most of it came from their life experiences...and some of it was somehow trapped in the instrument they used for composition. As their stories came into focus, my voyage changed from the physical world and began to delve into the metaphysical.
The more I practiced and learned about the physical aspects of playing music, the more I became convinced that stringed wooden instruments have a lot more going on inside them that just the ability to help one make pleasing sounds from wood and steel. I’m not sure what to call this quality I’ve stumbled upon, but, for simplicity, let’s just say this...I think these instruments have a soul. I don't think they come from the factory or the luthier with their soul intact, rather, I think they get it vampire-style from everyone who picks up the instrument and willingly pours their emotions into the vessel. It seems that artists exchange part of their being for the ecstasy the instrument rewards to the player. It is a symbiotic relationship, not unlike a parent /child relationship. The parallels are many. Buy a new instrument and bring it home and you are embarking on a journey like bringing an infant home from the hospital. Go buy a used instrument and it might be like rescuing a pet from a Humane Society (and that is a great thing to do). But acquiring or inheriting an instrument played by a departed loved one might be the most special and magical thing I’ve seen on my journey.
Maybe these next statements indicate that my voyage has become not just metaphysical, but perhaps delusional. I leave that to you to decide but hear me out. Something happens as one spends hours with a wooden instrument hugged closely to their heart, while they pour words and feelings out through that instrument. The fibers of the wood vibrate with the notes and the pulse of the player. Those fibers are rearranged by those vibrations, and they are forever changed. Blood, sweat, and often tears, are transferred between the player and the instrument. A soul grows in the instrument, and that soul was planted by the player to the fertile field of the instrument. It takes root and it stays there forever. I may be delusional, but I believe this. Even though I only have a bit over a year with my guitars, I think they already have absorbed part of me into their souls. I believe it so completely that my estate planning will include clear instructions on who should take over the instruments I have loved during my time. I’m certain that, after I am gone my family and friends will experience more communion with me through those instruments, should any of them pursue playing them, than they ever would by having my ashes in an urn on their mantle.
This belief has also driven me to seek out instruments played by departed friends who I still long to be close to. I’ve succeeded in finding a guitar played by a high school friend who perished in an automobile accident over 50 years ago. That guitar has lived in its original case, in a closet, all that time, and my excitement to spend time with him again, by playing that guitar, is palpable. I am certain that my voyage is not complete, but it sure is one I can recommend to you all. We’ve all lost loved ones, some of us have lost them and still yearn to reach out to them again. That might well be possible through getting that person’s musical instrument in your hands. It might be just the vehicle for the voyage of your life.
July 3 SV Music at the Pool and also Bronwyn Keith-Hynes Fiddle Player at Cheekwood Thursday Night Out
July 4 Summer Concert Series; Red, White and Boom at Crockett Park, Brentwood
July 5 Forever Abbey Road (rescheduled) at Cheekwood
July 5 Elvis Costello at the Ryman Auditorium
July 10 Cheekwood Thursday Night Out - Deep Fried Five
July 10 EZ Street Band - Springsteen Tribute - Franklin Theater
July 11 Heartshakers - Tom Petty Tribute - Franklin Theater
July 11 Full Moon Picking Party - Percy Warner Park
July 14 Big Bad Voodoo Daddy - Franklin Theater
July 17 Cheekwood Thursday Night Out - Paul Childers
July 26 Soul Sacrifice - Santana Tribute Band - Williamson County Performing Arts
July 31 Cheekwood Thursday Night Out - St. Owsley
July 31 Billy Joel Tribute - Franklin Theater
August 2 Rod Stewart Tribute - Williamson County Performing Arts Center
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