What a hoot!

Ok, people. Get ready for this one! Last night I went to a hootnanny (is that how you spell it?). And yes, in New York City. I know, I know. Who'da thunk?

My co-worker's boyfriend, a Louisiana native and talented Broadway actor and musician, organizes these things every few months. Side note: my co-worker's pretty talented, too! And, man, is a hoot fun. Banjo-picking, accordions, an upright bass, you name it, it was played. In the back of a hopping Hell's Kitchen Irish pub gathered musicians, kids, dancers and bluegrass enthusiasts for an evening of live music. A Led Zeppelin cover, on to an Irish folk song, and even a special request made just for me. My girl Sherry asked them to play "Rocky Top." I felt pretty silly. I can only imagine how many times they've been asked to play that number. But, holy mackerel, is that song fast! The woman on the fiddle got a workout from that song alone.

Sherry and I have an inside joke about Rocky Top, silly stuff. But it took me back to the good ole days of clogging in Georgia. Yes, people. I grew up clogging. HA! Can't you just picture me at age three in that outfit...ruffles and bloomers and hardly a skirt! Oh the horror...

Hey, was that a kazoo??