I walked into the pub, and there was legitimately one open seat at the bar, so I took it, asked for a Murphy's, and swung my body back around to be non-awkward. For, you see, there were normal-to-hipster-looking guys playing guitar and had the whole bar singing tunes. We were all seated at the regular tables and bar area but situated in such a way to make a circle. These fellows were passing around two guitars between songs, and if it took too long (more than five seconds) for one person to think of a song to play, the guy sitting next to me would launch into a jig-like, sans guitar, loud and funny rhyming piece that made everyone laugh. Sadly, I didn't get a clip of that, but here's a clip of the guy I'm talking about, because visuals are helpful:
All the while, I was looking for my beer. I just felt like I didn't belong there without it. But before the tenders had it poured, the guy next to me passed me the guitar and said, "Do you want to sing a song?" I said, really matter-of-factly, like I do, "No." Then he pressed a little, "It would be really great if you would. Come on!" He even had his friends chanting, "Do it! Do it!" like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was super confused, so I told him, "I don't know how to play that thing, and you don't want to hear me sing." But he wasn't having it. I could feel my face flushing, and I honestly didn't know any other form of communicating the fact that I would not be playing the guitar for the crowd that evening. Still no beer. I don't really remember how I got out of that. I think I just sat there until the guy said, "Well that's disappointing," and someone started strumming on the other guitar.
After they finished their sing-along, when the trad musicians were arriving and I had drunk my beer, I asked one couple if this was a usual thing, if they were from town, etc. The guy (Chris) told me they were part of the organizational team for the festival. "So the festival finished last night, and this is our night to play some music, get wasted, you know, wind down." The woman (Endor, I thought she said, but it also could have been something like, "I'm Nor.") invited me to the next bar where they would continue their fun that evening. This is a clip of Chris for the visual, but unfortunately I have no clip of the woman:
So I went, of course. But not until I listened to a little traditional music and chatted with a few guys about how WWOOFing is similar to slave labor. Their words. Not kidding. (Obviously, the only real similarity is not getting paid a wage. Interesting fact: More than half of my working life since college graduation has been volunteer, so to these folks at the bar, "slave labor.") Here's a little taste of the trad music:
When I finally went to Shanley's to join the group still celebrating the International Guitar Festival, Chris and Endor waved and said hello when I entered. One of the fellows in town from the U.K. was a bluegrass player, and seeing my West Virginia sweatshirt, his friend's wife asked him to play some bluegrass for me. At the end of the evening, this same man played Country Roads for "our friend Emily from West Virginia," and it just made my little night! To top it all off, when I tried to slip out of the pub quietly, three or four people shouted, "Good night, Emily!" and one guy said, "Country Roads," to which I appropriately responded, "Take me home."
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