Saturday night, after dinner in West Palm Beach, our friends took us to Grandview Public Market. We got our desserts and sat out on the deck, where a band, Upright Hootenanny, was entertaining the crowd. One middle-aged woman got up and started dancing in front of the “stage,” joined shortly by a white-haired woman in boots. I thought: That’s Florida – the farther north you go the more southern it gets.
But yesterday I joined my friend Greg at The Field on Griffin Road. In the middle of the main room, about nine people sat in a circle: pickers – guitars, banjos, a mandolin, a double bass, a Dobro – and two fiddlers. All except the fiddlers were of a certain age, and all were male except the fiddler on the end, who looked about 10. Her flowery skirt stood out in a ring of denim.
