Generally, the Gospel Truth

My roommate Nathan is gifted; he can play the guitar from any position. Some times he will play it sitting down. Sometimes he will play it standing up. My favorite times are those when he plays will dancing, which I think would be very hard.

Several weeks ago Nathan formed a band named General Lee and the Gospel Truth in our living room. Basically what happens is on nights that I have to study, he will invite all his friends over to play music. Bingo plays the banjo, Laurie plays the fiddle, and Moffett plays a bass guitar he made out of a wash basin and a broom handle.

(Don't you love those names? I feel like this could be a band of muppets, like Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem.)

Nathan plays some of his own songs, and some covers. The band will practice on our porch or in our living room, and Blanton, my other roommate, and I will sit and listen, because we cannot play instruments. I've always been frustrated by that - not that I can't play an instrument, but more that I can't join a band. I don't care much about playing instruments; I have other skills, many of which I can't tell you about. Yet I often wish I could be in a band, because that seems to be an easy conversation starter.

Two Saturdays ago, watching General Lee grow their bluegrass, I really felt the need for a steady, grating percussion instrument like a washboard. I said this, and as it turned out, I was sitting directly beneath a washboard that had been hung on the wall (I think it may have come from a dumpster - Nathan brings home a lot of knick knacks). Since it was my idea, I was given the position of washboard player.

Playing the washboard is a lot like running your fingernails across a chalkboard - in fact, if the chalkboard was preforated, that would be exactly what playing the washboard is. The only trick is making a scratching sound rhythmic. This is a trick I possess.

The pinnacle of the night (and my life) came at midnight - having mastered the oft celebrated washboard, I suggested we go to Dickson Street and peddle our wares. Thus we did, and in two hours we stole ten dollars from people who thought we were homeless. After that, I (literally) hung up my washboard, and retired from professional music.