Ahhhhh another dulcimer festival come and gone....and I must admit, as many people do, that this year was different, like every year is different--for some, it's the increasing knowledge of music that bumps you up from "Beginner" to "Intermediate"; or, for others, it's the adopting of a new instrument that sends you off into a world unknown: New jams, new teachers, new people you've never met before even though this was your 12th year at Evart.

Some people arrive with babies or kids in tow for the first time, whereas previous years they were free to roam at all hours of the day and night with no one to worry about but themselves. Or perhaps it's the year that one becomes "famous" among the crowds, heading out to the stage for the first time or teaching workshops and hearing their name mentioned in conversations between folks they've never met.

Sometimes it's the weather, heat like an oven that slows you down, or monsoon rains that float your tent away, each causing new friendships out of a moment of survival: Diving under a stranger's awning, instruments in tow to dodge the hail, and finding a new jam buddy...or splashing into some unknowing child's pool to cool off your burning feet only to discover his mom just took your workshop an hour before.

For whatever the reason, the dulcimer festival is a new experience every year.(I guess that supports the old "Dulc-heimer's Disease" diagnosis.) Every year I go, I reminisce about years past, especially when I see new kids arrive with a shiny new instrument (or a severely damaged case covered in duck tape that screams "hand-me-down" or "cheap at pawn shop") just beaming at the grid they've torn threw with a bright red marker, circling every workshop for their instrument, trying to smoosh in at least one an hour, all day, every day. I say "at least one an hour" because I've actually caught some people dropping off a tape recorder in one workshop and running with their instrument to another.

It makes me think of my first couple of years at funfest... I was sixteen and was tagging along with another family who had a string band. I had only met the dulcimer for the first time in February. I couldn't believe my eyes at how many instruments there were! I was so eager to take every single workshop. I wanted to soak in everything, learn everything, meet every single person.

The first night I was dragged around by my dulcimer teacher. She wanted me to see all the really good famous people..and the really big dulcimer with the really big hammers. That was the year I wandered around late at night only to hear every other jam playing "Angelina Baker"..it was odd. I was starry eyed.

The second year I actually knew 10 tunes, and was made to sit in big jams even though I couldn't really play. "Hit one note when you hear it, you'll pick up the tunes before long," they said. Since my mother taught me to do what I was told, I was found every night at the back of the jams, sometimes hammering a note or two, other times watching in amazment at how fast hammers could fly...my feet tapping....and, I have to admit, a few times I was brushing away tears secretly thinking, "I'll never be able to play like that, what was I thinking coming here??"

Another year I was asleep in my tent in the early morning hours and the sweetest music I'd ever heard filled my ears and I opened my eyes, thinking I'd been dreaming of angels, but the music carried on; I ran a brush threw my hair and peeked out of the tent only to find Judi Morningstar hammering "January Waltz." I climbed out and listened with tears in my eyes, again thinking how I wasn't cut out for this magical, wonderful music...and Judi, who knew how obsessive I'd become about learning embellishments, said, "Bring me your Judasche book, I'll write in the extra notes..." After the first three notes jotted down in pencil she sighed and said, "Oh forget it, it's faster just to show you. Just go get your dulcimer." There we sat on Sunday morning, sharing this beautiful song. (Don't tell her, but after that I hung an 8x10 glossy of her face on my wall and talked to it every night.)

And so it goes, every year the memories are made. I think I find myself still amazed at how time marches on. I taught my first workshop and overheard two women outside saying, "Oh yeah, Rochelle's that girl with long hair that plays so fast in the jams!" Boy was THAT weird. I almost thought they knew me but I guess they had me mixed up with Cindy Simmons. Go figure!

For those of you who have been at Evart year after year, (since the beginning of time, like Bob Hubbach), I hope you realize what an impression you leave on the minds of the young, and what an inspiration you are to them. I used to call Linda Foley "The Queen" because she stayed up late, knew every tune, including Simon and Garfunkel stuff. I decided early on that I couldn't go to bed before anyone else because I might miss something. Often it ended up with Mary Lou Battley telling me, "Now Rochelle, get some sleep, it's only Thursday! You have to work up to it, " when I'd fuss that it was 2am and almost no one left standing. Linda caught on to my neediness and graced me with a few more tunes.

I remember a conversation we had once about my obsessiveness to learn everything there was to know on the dulcimer. She told me these wise words: "If you knew every tune and every lick there was to know, you'd be almost perfect. You would have no challange. No one would want to play with you. You'd sit alone every night because you knew too much."

At least I can relax now. Because if there's something that's most special about Evart, it's sharing the jams with friends.

Cece Webster showed up to a jam around 4am a couple of years ago. I was jamming with Denise and Bob and I'm sorry but I don't remember if anyone else was still awake! Cece traded me her dog on leash for my dulcimer temporarily so she could play with Bob. Holy cow I thought my music career was over when I heard what she did with my strings. She and Bob obviously had a musical history, it was so neat to hear them play stuff they hadn't shared in years....and after she left, there I was again, strangely, in tears. I was ready to trade in my hammers for a tamborine or something. But there was Bob coming to the rescue, hugging me and setting me straight all in the same moment. He told me about how everyone has their own style and everyone needs to be different, and that there's not room for more than one Cece Webster or Rick Thum or whoever, each of us has something unique to offer the world musically. And since that time I've been stable, but I think Dr. Bob looks out for my emotional melt downs and isn't very far away if I need help picking up the pieces. (Of course now that he released his CD it may change, he just might be in a class too far above mental cases like me, but at least I can say I knew him when...)

I could go on and on about all my memories, but you all don't need to hear about it, you have your own to ponder. But I haven't gotten to the nitty gritty about this year: We have some business to discuss.....

Many of you have from time to time gently reminded me to slow down, or more frankly accused me of sending tunes flying down hill, dragging all the guitar, bass, and piano players kicking and screaming along with me. I know, I know, it's all in fun. But this year, I decided must've been offending you all for years, you just didn't know how to tell me. (I'm surprised at that though because Gail knows how to tell anyone anything!) I took the comment about my speeding up panty hose or whatever the heck tune we were playing from Linda. Yeah yeah, even though it wasn't me, I took partial responsibilty anyway and moved on. But then, as soon as Blackberry Blossom got moving along (you all think Chuck is aging and can't hear but it's all a cover up, he's really a young speed demon on the dulcimer)...I gazed up to look around and what do I see? Three policemen coming to take me away. Which of you will admit you called the cops? Do you know I had to go through a radar test and everything?? I almost got hauled off to JAIL for speeding on my dulcimer?? You laugh, you laugh, but until you live threw the SHAME and GUILT of breaking the law and getting caught, you'll never know what a hit I took that night. What was the dog for, hmmmm? Think my hammers are on sterioids or something? Lucky for me there was no cell in my future and I actually made it back to my tent that night!

But it didn't stop there....you all thought you were gonna get rid of me easy, right? Well, just wait till you hear what I found out. Remember my sun burn? You all kept saying, "Wow Rochelle, that looks bad, you need some Benedryl..put something on that burn!" Over and Over and Over. I felt so loved and cared for! You were all looking out for me! But did any of you have Benedryl? NOOOOOOOOO of course not! Because you were plotting. Quiet, kind and talented Jim McKinney just nonchalantly waltzes up, right at the appointed time, and says, "Rochelle, do you need Benedryl? I have some, we had it for Tommy. I'll get it for you."

And I fell for it, hook line and sinker. But when it arrived, it was liquid. And mysteriously missing the measure cup. There steps in Cindy Simmons, sprouting learned lines like a tv show..." Here Rochelle, here's a cup!" handing me a styrofoam cup. So she reads, "adults take 4-5 teaspoons" and I pour a bit into the bottom of the cup, and Bottoms up! it's gone.

She tried to give me a cold coffee chaser but I dodged that for a pretzel. Who knows what could've happened if I took that coffee too?!

About 40 minutes later, at the beloved Saturday night jam, I sit surrounded by all my favorite musicians, hammering away, when all of a sudden, I can't keep my eyes open! The dulcimer before me now has 750 strings, and is spinning, and I hear my notes about 3 seconds behind everyone else's. I got horribly faint, and grabbed my water and ran out of the jam towards Gloria Allen who took one look at me and agreed I didn't look too good. She figures I must've taken at least double the dose of Benedryl. And guess what? I ended up spending the juiciest hours of Saturday night lying in a camper with ice on my head and Gloria on the phone with the Poisen Control Center!! But instead of being hauled into the ER of Reid City like you probably hoped, I recovered. I didn't make it back to the jam till 12:30am! Most of you packed up soon after that. I missed the most of it! You all got to play your favorite tunes, at a perfect speed, without me. So what I want to know is, how'd you get Jim involved? Doesn't he work for a prison or something? Were you planning on having me hauled away not on speeding charges, but drug charges? Who'd have pinned Jim for spiking the Benedryl, right? And what did Cindy have in that cold coffee? How ironic that Denise said, waaaay after the fact, "Oh I had adult benedryl tablets, why didn't you ask me?" Hmmmmmmmm. Bet you didn't think I'd catch on. But I'm smart, and I've watched my fair share of soaps.

Oh well, I still love you all, even though you did this to me. We will all laugh some day about it when I'm pushing you around in your wheelchairs from jam to jam, handing you your own little cups of meds and supplying you with your Depends. Yes, yes, it will all be funny in the end when I still have my own teeth and get to eat at Shadows while you all have your I.V feeding tubes or are sucking down pureed Big Macs threw a straw. Go ahead, wise ones, trust ME to tune your dulcimer then. Ha. We'll see who laughs last. Just have a great time remembering all your own memories of Evart.....while you still can, um, remember....

Much Love,
Rochelle DeAnda

ps, Judi, really there was no 8x10 glossy of you...it was a joke (actually I only had an 8x10 glossy of Glen!)

pps, PEG, do you think you might suggest a laywer?? I figured you'd be willing to help me out in case I get into the legal end of things.....