Good morning Chief and welcome to Time Machine Day! Enjoy the trip and don't forget to come back...we need your answers to these questions! Terry ====== Red Allen story... When we worked at The Wheeling Jamboree in 1957, The Louvin Brothers had voluntarily
Just after the 2020 presidential election was called (the first time), I wrote a column here about how we'd all need to find new subjects to argue about just to keep us off the streets, or off of Facebook, Twitter,
Good morning Chief! I hope all finds you well and staying safe in these perilous times. In going through the many questions your fans sent this week, I'm continually reminded of the friendships, love, and respect you've built in your
This response to our article last week, Who’s the real Father of Bluegrass, is a contribution from Richard D. Smith, a mandolin player based in Somerset County, NJ, and the author of Bluegrass: An Informal Guide and Can't You Hear Me
Bypassing Christmas for the moment ("and so, as Tiny Tim observed . . ."), we are approaching the time for year-end reflections, top 10 lists, and other ways of cataloging and looking back on the year 2020. "Yuck" is the
Good morning Chief, as I look out the window on our first dusting of snow here in middle Tennessee, I've come to the realization that your weekly trip through bluegrass' past might best be conducted this week in a sleigh.
This Saturday, the Grand Ole Opry celebrates the 75th birthday of bluegrass music. It's certainly a cause for celebration. But, for me at least, it's also a time for reflection and the sharing of a belief that I’ve held for
Last year around this time, I offered up some potential Hallmark Christmas movie plots with a bluegrass element, because, you know, we all need the money. Last year, I had no idea how much we'd be needing the money. I'm sure
Ask Sonny Anything is a recurring feature where our readers pose questions to the great Sonny Osborne, one half of the iconic Osborne Brothers who redefined bluegrass music in the 1960s, and noted banjo maven and collector of fine prewar
I've never celebrated Thanksgiving in my own home. That means 64 holidays at my parents, my in-laws, a West Coast dinner out with an uncle, and a long weekend with my college girlfriends family in Pittsburgh. That string will be broken
