Added Floyd to the List

We've all heard of CBGB's, the Sunset Strip, Gilley's, and Music Row in Nashville, each responsible for their own personal mark on the music world. Without discrediting any of those famous musical havens, I'd like to also add downtown Floyd, Virginia to the list.

If you have a Friday night free, this is the place to be. Casually parading along South Locust Street with real American small town folk of all ages, listening to real homegrown music in alleys, street corners, park benches, barbershops, and wherever else a tune can be shared. Floyd is as genuine as it gets.

When I arrived, I'd planned to spend about an hour or so, just for the experience. Nearly six hours later, I walked to my car with a bounce to my step and the sweet touch of southwest Virginia on my soul.

As I left the small mountain town with a population of 432 that evening, I was convinced of a few things that I wasn't aware of when I arrived hours before the sunlight faded. Real people. Real music. Real life. Damn right… Floyd is a musical Mecca.

a morning filled with heroes

©2011 gary garbett.com

What a day of wonder. I spent the morning documenting the Claytor Lake Sprint Triathlon. It was a day that was far more beautiful than the weather, which was sun filled and stunning. The large wonderful group of young adults to seniors, were such an inspiration and filled with an amazing joy for life. Their spirit and enthusiasm was infectious and they were each truly living for every moment in the moment. They shined. 

As things were coming to a close and as the final runner turned the last corner for the last twenty yards, long after the event leader had crossed the line,everyone gathered at the finish line to encourage her with loud and enthusiastic cheers of support.It was a remarkable experience. Even as a spectator, the emotion and the adrenaline rush at the end was equal to that of the start.

I have the rest of my day in front of me, but my list of heroes grew several pages longer even before pouring my second cup of coffee of the day. Cheers to a life, especially those filled with inspiring heroes.

kissing a painted sky and paint bank

©2011 gary garbett.com

Following an early morning lead, yesterday sent me on a road trip to Paint Bank,Virginia located in the southwestern region of Virginia on Potts Mountain, just five miles from the WestVirginia border. The day was beautiful and my roadtrip equaled that along the stunning scenic two lane Virginia route 311. I can't recall ever having driven more S turns than I did through theJefferson National Forest. The vistas were gorgeous and I seemed close enoughat times to reach out and kiss the few clouds that painted the sky.

The day was a path of basics - core places, people, and moments of real lifeof real America. I received a genuine hello with sincere waves as I drove past two young mothers at a rural bus stop, waiting for their children to arrive homefrom school. I passed a field lit up from the sun. Sitting behind the harvestwas a pale yellow barn in the distance with an American flag covering theentire façade. The aromas of freshly cut grass filled the air along severalmiles, and the few General Stores I did pass were tidy, welcoming, andunlittered from excessive commercialism.

Nearly an hour after exiting I-81, I found myself approaching a 35 MPHzone. The square green sign with white letters read PAINT BANK. Less than halfa mile ahead, just past the Volunteer Fire Department, was the crossroads at route 608 were the Paint Bank General Store and the Depot Lodge share theintersection and all of downtown Paint Bank. I was greeted by hospitality in person, listened to authentic local music, snapped more than a few pictures, and made a new friend named Jeremy.

There are days when life is just beyond rich. I'm thankful for those kind of days.

order of something else

©2011 gary garbett.com

Today’s barely begun and it’s already been a journey. Aftersleeping in until nearly 7AM, which I never do, I jumped from the bed and rushed to the marina with hope of catching thesunrise. And all before a cup of coffee, breakfast, or even a toothbrush. There’dbe time for that after spending a few minutes on the water with my cameras,waiting for the sun to peek overtop of the trees along the lakefront. Thismorning wasn’t to be that day though. The light cloud cover diffused themorning light. Something else was in order. As I sat along the shoreline, thestillness of the water was interrupted by the synchronized swimming of sixducks. Back and forth they swam before finally making their land entrance 20 yards from where I sat. They soon, unlike me, beganenjoying their breakfast along the bank.

After returning to the cabin, the sunlight made an incredibleentrance on the day while I enjoyed breakfast, several cups of coffee, and finallymy toothbrush. There was no music or television, just the sunlight making long shadows across the room as the chirping chorus of crickets and songbirds created the soundtrack. The day was amazingly glorious.

After speaking with a Ranger this morning, I've decided to follow the lead and head out on a fieldtrip with my camerasand a winding roadtrip to Paint Back, Virginia, just east of the West Virginiaborder. Life is about now and according to my wristwatch, I'm running a little behind.

the promise of a morning look

©2011 gary garbett.com

After three days of deluge while tropical storm Lee made his way along I-81, I waited with a cup of coffee for the sun to rise and to see what the morning would bring. Most days, life is worth waiting for. I believe my cameras and I have a date today. More will follow after I warm my coffee.

truths of a late night

©2011 gary garbett.com

Being truthful demands persistence. It sits rightthere next to credibility. Honesty. It’s a willingness to act on what you meanby also relaying the information as factual. Truth. My second grade historybook told me of George Washington becoming president because of his truthfulnature. Makes me wonder if he'd lied about that cherry tree gig if we'd have adifferent face on our one-dollar bill.

Confessions are rewarding and like Mr. Washington, I too cannot tell a lie.Late, late last night I spent just a few minutes standing all by myself at thekitchen counter with a spoon in one hand and a pint of Ben and Jerry's in theother. No chair. No television playing in the background, just the florescentlight and myself as the rain made its presence on the kitchen window. The clockread 2:11 while I slowly and carefully guided the spoon along the edge if the containerfor another pass. As a man on a regimented diet and Zocor, I wasn't really being unfaithful. Iwas simply being truthful to Ben and Jerry's Late Night Snack packaging. I also happened to be on vacation. The clock ticked. I held my ground and the container before going in for onefinal pass before heading to a pillow and a nap.

I like telling the truth. It helps to tell my story rather than telling someone else's.

casting days

©2011 gary garbett.com

Fishing holes and calendar days are incredibly similar. Despite having a plan for either, the events of the experience are never really certain. There have been days where I exceeded my daily limit before 9AM. Others weren't as rewarding and I've even lost my bobber on some. The splendor of days is that I can always cast my line again tomorrow.

today is from yesterday

waiting on brunch ©2011 gary garbett.com

Today was spent with my past. After receiving a phone call earlier this week about a hurried attempt for a family reunion, we made the hour and a half drive to be outdoors, sit in lawn chairs under big shade trees, and spend time with people that I haven't seen for decades, some since I was a child. I'm unsure what was more satisfying, the wonderful and genuine conversations or the numerous tables lined with dishes upon dishes of home cooked foods. So many of these people seemed exactly the same as when I'd last seen them. Both the food and the people were comforting, real, and a gathering of numerous yesterdays. 

I listened to stories of hardships and illnesses, each of which all closed with faith, hope, recovery, and a smile. There was talk of joys, proud graduations, new marriages, and others of decades long. I met the children of the children of the children that I use to play with each summer at the river and shared meals and laughter with at all of those winter holiday family gatherings during my youth. 

The pace of our society and our hurried lives make it awfully easy to put off attending an event like today. It was one of those personal moments of reflection and I am so happy to have taken the time and initiative to spend the day with my family from my yesterday. Although I rarely see these kinfolk, they've all contributed to my life, and good or bad, each can take a smidgen of credit for me being me.

Gathering with all of the grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, and children of the children made me feel like I was a kid again…just forty years older.