Augustime Ramblings (2017 Edition)

I am 48 years old. And counting. Growing up we had a good-sized vegetable garden in our backyard. Both of my grandmothers had vegetable gardens as well. My initial foray into slightly higher education was two years at Lon Morris Junior College (Go Bearkats!) in Jacksonville, Texas, where they have had “Tomato Fest” for 33 years. And counting. Here’s my point: somehow I have walked this spinning orb for 48 years without ever once having a tomato sandwich. I know. I know. Yes. I share your confusion and dismay.

Julytime Ramblings (2017 Edition)

Choices. I’ve been thinking about choices lately. Mrs. Hoke and I recently-ish returned from our annual trip to Texas where we attended The Kerrville Folk Festival for the I-don’t-know-how-many-th-time. Those of you who’ve been reading this thing for a while know that we go to hear music, yes, but also (mostly) to hang with friends we love and don’t see nearly often enough. We also play a fair bit of music ourselves (with those same friends we love and don’t see nearly often enough). It’s a long drive. Yes it is. This year we paused in Texarkana at an Air B-n-B and found a thank you note on the wall from another musician friend who had stayed in the same room the week previous as she made her way from Nashville to Kerrville. (Not that many Air B-n-B options in Texarkana, I suppose. Or: while it may not actually be a small world after all Texarkana is in fact a small town despite being spread across three states.) We had a delicious supper at Pecan Point Brewing Company and then went for a walk after supper. Texarkana has a very photogenic downtown if you like towns on the fade. I do. For photographs, anyhow. For instance:

Frozen Couple Seeks Warmer Climate

My point is that we are aware of winter and like it well enough on TV, in movies, and in made-for-TV movies, but it gets to us. Especially Mrs. Hoke because she’s from Florida and in late February I will sometimes find her perched on the sofa wrapped in a blanket staring despondently out the window muttering “I’m from FLORIDA, dammit!” under her breath.

26.2 with Guy Clark

Dear Mr. Clark,

Hello. Todd Hoke, here. You don't know me but I'm one of your fans. My first album of yours was Texas Cookin' and I now own everything you've done except the Austin City Limits recording. I'll get that one sooner or later I reckon. Maybe when I'm done typing this thing up. (Update: just ordered it.)

 

Running a Marathon

I don't know what to say about today. I don't have any eloquent or useful insights.

Rocky Mountains Have I Known

I was going to title this "Rocky Mountain Howdy" which in my little brain is a sort of clever play on Rocky Mountain High but I thought better of it. Or something. Anyway. I was in Colorado in Mid-October to play a houseconcert at my friend Mary's house and also to run the Boulder Marathon. Or vice-versa. My parents flew out to be supportive because they are awesome like that. I took pictures. Wanna see some of them? Tough.

Falling In The Same Creek Twice

I was in my hometown--Conroe, Texas--back in August and took a few hours to drive around photographing some stuff mildly significant to my life there. Everything changes, yes? It was a little disappointing that no-one ever rushed up proclaiming "Todd Hoke! Todd Hoke! Welcome home!" Oh well. My mother was glad to see me.

Brother, Can You Spare 100 Dimes?

Southland (that's the title of the forthcoming work of genius) was recorded in Austin and my friends are all over it. Huge fun, it was. My first ever ukulele song is on this CD. This is my first CD with an honest-to-Pete-Fountain horn section. And harmonizers from Canada. And a sing-along chorus (okay--yes--I did that on Heavenly Houseboat Blues but this one's even chorusier).

RIP Andy Griffith

Andy Griffith died today. I never met him and don't really know anything about him as a person, but I watched and enjoyed The Andy Griffith Show an awful lot...

There And Back Again (Texases I Have Known)

We arrived at Quiet Valley Ranch. It's beyond me to really capture what happens at The Kerrville Folk Festival--it's basically a leash free area for the human spirit. Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. Many many smiles, hugs, songs, and laughs were enjoyed during our stay. Of course it was too short. And of course we missed the folks who had come and gone by the time we arrived. But Mrs. Hoke and I thoroughly delighted in the time and friends we had. Yup. Very yup indeed.

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