I came across this place on my drive back from northern Indiana last week. I was sticking to county roads as much as I could. I’m not even sure what county I was in when I took this picture out of my car window. I think it might have been in Newton County, but I couldn’t say for sure. I’ll have to try to find this building again because I’m afraid that it won’t be around for very long.
This picture will be my submission to Leanne Cole’s Monochrome Madness post this week. I enjoy seeing all of the submissions to the weekly challenge. I believe that you would as well.
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When I was young, fifty plus years ago, I used to daydream about becoming a folk singer on the scale of the Kingston Trio, Pete Seeger or Peter, Paul & Mary (Believe me, they were big!). In my daydreams I was always on stage in a large auditorium, probably at a large university, singing and playing my guitar to great applause.
Sometimes I was alone on stage, and sometimes I was part of a group. Sometimes, when I was part of a group, I envied the banjo player because I knew I would never master that instrument. Sometimes I was part of a group because the other voices would mask my inadequate vocals. It seems that reality even crept into my daydreams.
My only true talent seemed to lie in picking the songs that we would perform. It was sort of like daydreaming that you are the manager of a baseball team rather than a player. Does that make me humble, or rather, filled with fear of inadequacy?
That was one of my staple daydreams for a number of years. I remember that I stopped daydreaming about being a folk music star around the same time that disco (I can’t bear to call it music) ruined the world…along with double knit polyester clothing for men.
I’m ready to pop in a Best of Hootenanny DVD and transport myself back to a sweeter time; if you don’t count Viet Nam.
Classical Gasbag 