A lot of the reason Spencer and I drive on local roads, eschewing super highways except in extreme cases of time constraints, is that it affords us the opportunity to visit with America. A place like LeRoy is so charming with the river running through the middle of the town, a main street that flaunts its most lovely homes, and a downtown of 19th century architecture. I am pleased to report that there seems to be a return to downtown pride in many small towns of America, and grants are available for improvements to return commerce to once-bustling shops. As we slow down to the local speed limit in one of these places, we often turn off the radio or CD we are listening to and really check out where we are: storefronts restored, people out and about, gardening, kids with their folks, ethnicities in signs and businesses. Sometimes we’ll drive around a block or two to see it better; sometimes we stop to check out a thrift store or just chat with folks. America has a lot to offer the casual observer.

And then there are the signs that greet the driver. My favorite one this trip met us as we approached Great Falls, Montana: Rattlesnake Vaccinations for Your Dog!!! In those few words we received both news on a local concern and a bit of the ecology of the area.

My advice to the harried musician who is weary of travel? Get off of those interstates! It can save your love of America and enhance your lifestyle.

Tucked away in southern Ohio, close to that mighty river, The Fur Peace Ranch sits back from well-traveled state highway 33. It helps to know where you are going when you get this fur from everything. Cell phones search desperately for a connection and end up roaming. Your car is perpetually dusty from traversing the roads. But you also hear frogs and crickets at night, the stars look close enough to touch, and the air is crisp and clear in the morning, when Debbie blows the conch shell to announce breakfast. Ranches are generally associated with horses, cattle, and roundups, but the Fur Peace Ranch has other purposes. Now in its tenth year, The Fur Peace is a music camp for folks wanting to concentrate on their guitar playing with professional musicians as their instructors.

Spencer was one such teacher this last weekend. He shepherded ten gentlemen in the fine art of playing guitar and singing. I listened over the few days we were there as the men grew in confidence and the camaraderie developed. Sessions were punctuated by communal meals of students and teachers, which included owner Jorma Kaukonen, Jack Cassady, and Warren Haynes. Saturday night featured a concert by Warren, backed by the other teachers. Sunday afternoon was the student performance, followed by an evening concert of Down the Dirt Road Blues by Spencer. But there was more… this particular weekend was dedicated to motorcycle rides through the beautiful hills of southern Ohio.

I observed the dynamics of this insular group, and I realized that The Fur Peace Ranch is, yes, teaching music to people who want to know more about it. But it is also creating community among people. From this little retreat, the waves of community reach out to the nearby town of Pomeroy, from which some of the employees come as well as services like banking and groceries. The deeper community, though, is the one that develops among the students coming there. Many return time after time, with friends, brothers, sons and daughters, or wives on the couples weekend. We know several alumni who continue their relationships when they get home, supporting each other’s concert series and attending musical events together. It occurs to me most of all, though, that I don’t know many places where men go for a retreat. Women do it. Teachers do it. Yoga students do it. Why not men? The Fur Peace Ranch is filling an important need. The results are higher self-confidence, personal support, a network of new friends. In other words, community. And in doing so, it supports peace in a way that is fresh and honest. Congratulations to them!

Greetings from beleaguered, broken, but unbowed and still beautiful New Orleans. The past year has been trying and difficult in ways I could never have envisioned, and the drama is far from over. Progress is being made, though, however slowly, and good things will continue to emerge in the aftermath of last summer’s apocalyptic storm. Many musicians and artists are experiencing a powerful creative surge these days. A couple months ago, my Muse whispered verse after verse in my ear, filling my mind’s eye with pictures of pre and post-storm New Orleans, and hanging them all on the image of the high-water mark that poisonous floodwaters left all over our beloved city when the levees failed. I premiered the song, titled, ‘THE LONG BLACK LINE,’ for approximately a thousand people in the middle of my set at the storied New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival last month, and an incredible thing happened…

Before the final notes of my lapsteel guitar drifted away, the entire audience had risen to its feet, openly weeping! The song’s multiple references to the issues and questions every New Orleanian presently faces obviously hit home in a big way with the people who chose to join me at the Lagniappe Stage that day. Since that afternoon, my mailbox has been filled with requests for the song, and I am pleased to be able to offer it, free of charge, to anyone who wants to hear it.

This recording of ‘THE LONG BLACK LINE’ is an advance copy, part of an album of the same name, that was recorded in Germany in April. For some, it will serve as a reminder of what we’ve been through. For those who do not live in New Orleans, and cannot possibly understand our trials, it will hopefully provide a glimpse of the tribulations our battered city still faces. In any event, this song belongs to the people of New Orleans, and I encourage all of you to download it, listen to it, and share it generously.

Thank you all for your support over the decades. Hope to see you at the gig someday soon.

Warm Regards,

Marilyn Bohren