Three Old Musicians

This man played his steel guitar with a fiddler and slide guitarist who sang. His steel guitar reflected back the colors in his friends' shirts as his lackadaisical gaze belied his apparent keeping with the music. The trio played in Tucson's Reid Park during a pet fair in 2009. I was fascinated by their focus while playing and each of the old men were captivating in their own odd way- grey hair, beards, eclectic clothes, weathered wrinkled hands that seemed molded to the shape required to play their instruments.





The bit of condiment, mustard or ketchup, on the slide guitarist's hand reminds me of the human quality of music. Often we speak of the divine or sinister nature of music that causes our souls to rise and fall in ecstasy and despair, but this day, watching the three men enjoy playing together a jaunty bluegrass ditty, I was reminded that often music is earthy and grounding. Neither too lofty or too low, only sensible and fun, and a tad messy.





I wondered if the man behind the fiddler's shoulder was his son because he wore a similar expression and had a similar face shape, nose and eye shape. I can imagine the fiddler forty years younger standing with his fiddle in front of a crowd. There was a Bluegrass fiddler banner over the picnic benches. The musicians were having a picnic and impromptu jam sessions. I think of this trio often even though it has been a few years. That day I was in the park for a pet fair, but my favorite memory was listening to these three men play and sing in chorus with the dozens of birds overhead in the trees. I studied the techniques of each unique instrument and watched as their wrinkled hands worked to bring out a delightful sound on a balmy day in the park.