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In the early 2000’s, when the woods behind the Bill Monroe Homeplace were cleared enough for a stage and seating, much brush and many trees of all sizes, mostly cedar, had to be hauled away.

I didn’t like the idea of perfectly fine wood going to waste, so I looked for ways to make use of it before it decomposed.

I hauled ten or twelve logs to Koetter Woodworking in Olaton, Ky, where my friend Scott Patterson sawed them into 324 board-feet of lumber. Those boards were used for various Bill Monroe Foundation projects. A few boards remain, still stored in Dad’s barn.

Another use for all those cedar limbs and trees too small to take to the sawmill was to make walking staffs and canes. And that’s just what I did.

The first I made was a staff with a horse head on top that was auctioned at a Monroe Country show at Horse Branch Elementary.

How did I make them? First, I took a small cedar tree and sawed it to length and shaved it down to a workable size with a table saw.

Then I used a belt sander to work it down to the diameter of a cane or staff. This stage usually took more time than any, except when the carving of the top with a dremel tool was especially intricate.

After more sanding, I finally coated it with polyurethane.

I made more staffs and canes to auction for the foundation before I decided to make some for family and friends.

The first I made was a staff with a Copperhead snake on top for Dad. I put the snake there because he’s been bitten twice by Copperheads.

The first bite actually happened at Jerusalem Ridge, not far from the Monroe Homeplace, when we lived in Charlie Monroe’s house in the 70’s. The snake’s fangs didn’t make it through his boot.

The second time, around the year 2000, the fangs did get through because he was wearing flip flops in the garden at night. He and my oldest daughter Lauren had gone there with a flashlight to pick a watermelon.

The snake’s eyes are actually copper BB’s! He’s looking right at you!

My next staff was for Mom. She’s a collector of glass chickens (hundreds!), so I had no trouble coming up with the idea of a chicken on a nest to adorn the top of her staff.

This would prove to be a time-consuming project. Carving chicken feathers takes a while.

The next staff I made was for my Uncle James Casteel. First, let me say Dad, Mom, and Uncle James we’re working their tails off on Jerusalem Ridge throughout the 2000’s trying to build the festival up.

If you know Uncle James, you know he likes to compete in Cowboy Fast Draw and he likes stuff from the Civil War. I knew it would be a challenge, but I decided to put a cannon on top of his staff.

It’s been so long since I made some of these staffs and canes, that I can’t remember the order in which I made them. What I do remember is that I started using some cedar from my parents’ farm. Didn’t want it to go to waste either.

For my Aunt Fay Autry I made a cane. Sadly, she’s passed away now. Fay was involved in the Red Hat Society. RHS is about women having fun. If you knew her, you knew she was all about that. So, of course, I put a big, floppy hat on top of her cane.

I’ve been lucky to have Rusty Albin as my father-in-law. My wife Stephanie’s dad is truly one-of-a-kind. Marrying into the Albin clan, I discovered Stephanie’s uncles, Eddie and Gary, are pretty special, too.

I made staffs for the Albin boys with limbs from a downed cedar tree in Gary’s yard. You can’t tell in the pic, but I carved the letters A-L-B-I-N at the top.

L to R: Eddie, Charles(Rusty), and Gary

Around ‘04-‘05, I started making staffs to be presented on stage as gifts for Bluegrass icons and important people at the Jerusalem Ridge Festival. I could kick myself for not taking pictures of my work.

I made one for Ralph Stanley. On top of his staff, I shaped a big ball, then I hollowed it out. The only wood I left inside was in the shape of a banjo.

I made one more of these “globes” I call them. It was for Campbell Mercer, and I left a mandolin shaped inside.

I bet you can guess what I put on top of Dwight “Frog” Westerfield’s staff. That’s right! A big ‘ol bullfrog! He loved it!

If you remember those Jerusalem Ridge festivals from the 2000’s, you remember Ms. Lizzy Lewis, in her 80’s, wearing a red dress, sitting in a chair on the back of the stage. From Florida, I seem to remember she was a former Bill Monroe fan club president.

I made her a staff with a cross on top of it because she was very religious.

I made staffs for Bluegrass Boys Frank Buchanaan and Wayne Lewis. And one for CR Wilson, a prominent promoter who ran a Bluegrass venue in Shepherdsville. And one for Campbell’s wife Julie Mercer. Hers had a horse head on top because of her love for horses.

I do think it’s time I revived the tradition and presented a cedar staff to someone at this year’s Jerusalem Ridge festival. To whom, though? Let me know who you think it should be in the comments.

I mentioned the Monroe Country shows earlier. The impetus for doing those shows came from the books I wrote: Monroe Country, Volumes One and Two.

For these shows we would play bluegrass music, of course, but so much more. We’d have clogging. I would read a few of my poems from the books. We’d do a reading of Act One from The Old Homeplace, my play that’s in the books. We’d auction off a cane or staff.

In all we did seven of those shows. One was in Louisville at the Rudyard Kipling, a renowned restaurant-bar-performance venue (now closed) where Ralph Stanley, Wynton Marsalis, and My Morning Jacket, among others, had appeared. My good friend Ron Whitehead was able to get us booked there.

When I say “us”, I’m referring to me, my brother Kevin, and Mountain Rhythm, which consisted of Kenneth Newell on guitar, Kevin Pace (Rest in peace, brother) on mandolin, Robert Montgomery on banjo, and whoever they could find to fill in on bass for Eric Spencer, who couldn’t make it all the way from Virginia.

For the Rudyard Kipling show, Jackie Tarrance played bass, and, if I recall correctly, she sang some, too. And did a fine job!

At the show at Horse Branch Elementary Blue Grass Boy Tom Ewing played bass. He put together and edited The Bill Monroe Reader. Tom also wrote the masterful 2018 biography Bill Monroe: the Life and Music of the Blue Grass Man. He was also gracious enough to write a blurb for my Monroe Country books.

In Bowling Green, the late Ramey Hensman played bass. In Shepherdsville, Paul Priest. Both were fine and dandy!

A few years later, Paul, who played bass for Bobby Osborne and others, teamed up with his cousin Josh Mitcham to form their powerful Americana band Jericho Woods.

Others who participated in the Monroe Country shows on different dates were cloggers like the late Durl Johnson and Mom, of course.

We also had people who were part of the dramatic readings of Act One of the play. The Whitely brothers, Lukas and Logan, read parts. Mom read the part of Bill Monroe’s mother. I believe at the Hartford shows Campbell Mercer read the part of Uncle Pen, and Ramsey Carpenter read the part of Bill’s sister Bertha ( I know she played that gorgeous, green fiddle).

In Louisville, Ron read some of his poetry during the show. Ron Whitehead, an Ohio County native nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature, has been a great influence on my writing. I learned the stream of consciousness writing style from reading his books. Three of my poems in Monroe Country: Volume One were written in that style.

I also learned about the power of performance from Ron. His poetry readings are like sitting ringside at a heavyweight match. He’s all energy!

One of my favorite books is Ron’s Beaver Dam Rocking Chair Marathon. During the Monroe Country show at the Rudyard Kipling, I presented a staff to Ron adorned with, you guessed it, a rocking chair.

Ron sent me this photo just recently. I love the way it has aged, particularly the patina
and spalting.

I mentioned Kenneth Newell played guitar. He’s a hell of a mandolin player, too. He and I have been great friends since ‘03 when we met at Jerusalem Ridge. I made a cane with a mandolin on top for Kenneth just to let him know how much I appreciate him.

Last, but definitely not least of, I made UK staffs for my brother Kevin and sister Bobbi Jo. They cheer for the Wildcats as much as me. I love them both and couldn’t ask for better siblings.

Over the years I’ve made 50+ staffs and canes. One year I made enough to sell at the JR festival, so I asked Durl Johnson to sell them at his booth. He made staffs, too!

I took the money I made and paid off a custom England guitar made by Bryan England and Larry Shepherd. It was the very first 000 England guitar.

If you are interested in a custom cedar walking staff or cane, contact me by email at [email protected] or text me (don’t call)at 270-313-9175. For $100, I’ll put just about anything on it you can think up (except UK, I don’t want to be sued!).

Perhaps you have a specific piece of wood you would like turned into a staff or cane? It can be mailed or hand delivered to me. Or I can provide the wood. And I don’t have to use cedar; I just happen to enjoy working with it. You can choose the tree species.

Just let me know. Thanks for reading. ‘Til next time…arrivederci!

The tag line (like a subtitle) for this Notes of Blue blog is supposed to be “Rambling on Bluegrass and Other Stuff Blue.” You may not have seen it because I haven’t built out the website yet (working on it).

I thought I would explain what that tag means, what I mean by “…Other Stuff Blue.”

I touched on the subject in my very first blog post “Here We Go,” but I was short on specifics. I mentioned life in Kentucky and rural life. So, in addition to writing about Bluegrass music, let me give you a preview of some upcoming, 2025 blog posts about “other stuff blue.”

I’ve already written one post about the UK Wildcats. There will be more!

For my family and many others I know in the Bluegrass State, spring rain and warmer weather makes morels (we call them Hickory Chickens) emerge from the forest floor. So we go traipsing through the woods gathering them. I plan to write about it and include photos.

Another thing spring brings is fishing. Some people fish year ‘round, but my family and I are mainly warm weather fishermen. I’ll be writing posts about fishing for crappie, bass, and catfish, or maybe my wife Stephanie and I will go bluegill fishing.

Another springtime activity for some in my family is turkey hunting. I used to go after the gobblers with glee. Not much any more. If I do decide to this year, I’ll write about it.

In the fall I’ll be posting a few times about deer hunting, something I was raised to do. Mostly I hunt with a crossbow now.

Most of my fishing and hunting is done on Caney Creek. That place is literally a part of who I am. It’s where my bluegrass band got its name. So I’ll be writing posts about it.

Another hobby for a few folks in the country is digging ginseng in late summer and fall. Not many do it anymore, for reasons I’ll discuss when the time comes.

There is another late summer topic I’m eager to blog about because it’s a tradition my family has let slip by the wayside. We used to do it every year but haven’t for close to 30 years. I hope to revive the tradition just so I can share it with you.

What is it? Have you ever heard of homemade ketchup? I don’t want to share too much yet. Let’s just say it involves green tomatoes and cabbage, lots of salt, a stone crock, and mason jars.

One more summer topic will be gathering and cooking Chanterelle mushrooms. My brother Kevin learned about these just a few years ago. Some people like them better than Hickory Chickens. I’ll tell you what I think when I write about them.

You probably aren’t aware that I’m in another band called Rough Cut. We play country, southern rock and classic rock. We have a couple gigs this year that I’ll write about: McHenry Summer Fest in June and Rosine Autumn Jam in October.

Another of my hobbies is woodwork. I really got into it around 2003-04 as a way to fundraise for The Bill Monroe Foundation. I started making little four-inch mandolins for the foundation to sell. I then started making cedar walking staffs and canes. I’ll most likely write about this subject in the next day or so.

You can’t really talk about Kentucky without mentioning bourbon. It’s a part of our history and our economy. It’s an interesting subject, and I’ll touch on it in a post or two this year.

The fourth of what I would call my Kentucky Big Four is horse racing. Bluegrass, Bourbon, Horse Racing, and the Wildcats. I’ll for sure write about the Kentucky Derby in May.

So these are some specific posts to look forward to this year. A few others might be gardening, camping, trees, chickens, and grandkids. Topics are going to pop up out of nowhere, too. Unplanned topics.

And all this is in addition to the core subject of Bluegrass. Like I said in that first “Here We Go” post, most of my material will be related to the music, like songs, instruments, musicians, events, etc.

One last word—I will gladly consider suggestions from you, the reader. If there’s a topic you think would appropriately fit this blog, mention it in the comments. You never know…I just might agree.

‘Til next time…Au revoir!

The 33rd season of Friday night Bluegrass in Rosine, Ky, is exactly one week away. April 4, 2025 is opening night.

I can’t help but wonder if Hoyt and Eleanor Bratcher thought the 1992 Woosley barn project would still be going strong all these years later. We’ll have to ask them, won’t we?

Next Friday, when The Rosine Barn Jamboree opens its doors for the first time in 2025 at 5:00pm, the night will stand as a tribute to Bill Burden, who recently passed away. Bill was there in the beginning and never strayed, through good times and bad. If you knew Bill, you knew how much The Rosine Barn Jamboree meant to him.

When I became involved in running the barn, about ten years ago, Bill (who at the time was Chairman of TRA, The Rosine Association) and his partner Shirley, took me under their wings and showed me the ropes. I’m forever grateful for their support and friendship, but most of all, the music. That’s the core—the music!

Not much has changed since last year, except for the new Wall of Fame current TRA Chairman Dennis Cook and I put up.

Small bronze plates with the names of those folks who were significant in the founding and growth of The Rosine Barn Jamboree will grace the wall. Each year more names will be added. If you want to know who the first inductees to the Wall of Fame are, you’ll have to show up next Friday, April 4.

Friday nights will be structured the same as last year. I’ll be leading off with a 30-minute open mic segment from 6-6:30 (any and all who want to play, sing, or both are welcome to come to the stage and participate). “Flip Flop” Floyd Stewart will follow from 6:30-7:00. First band will play from 7-8:00. Second(and last) band will play from 8-9:00.

Next week, April 4, the first Friday of the season, will be different as we will have the Bill Burden tribute from 7-9:00.

The following week, April 11th, we’ll go back to our regular program. Both our bands will be from Tennessee—“Brand New Box of Matches” from Knoxville at 7:00 and “The Grassy Creek Bluegrass Band” from Gatlinburg at 8:00.

I can also offer you some future month-of-May scheduling:

May 2, 7:00, Kenneth and Angie Newell. May 2, 8:00, The Caney Creek Gang

I know this because, as some of you very well know, Kenneth and Angie (still newlyweds in my eyes) are great friends of mine, and Kenneth and I co-founded The Caney Creek Gang in 2019.

May 16, 7:00, Bill Cooper and Pure Country
May 16, 8:00, The Autry Brothers

I know this because, hey, I’m one of the brothers! My brother Kevin Autry and I have an absolute ball every time we’re afforded the privilege of playing here.

The Barn means a great deal to us both. We used to come over and play for our Mamaw Eva when it opened in ‘92. When her health failed in ‘95-‘96, she would sit on her porch next door and listen. Goodness gracious, she is missed.

I know she’ll be on my mind when I step up to the mic opening night next Friday, April 4, at 6:00 and say, “Howdy! Welcome to The Rosine Barn Jamboree.”

On the Bus with Bill Monroe: My Five-Year Ride with the Father of Bluegrass

The first thing I’ll say about Mark Hembree’s 200-page memoir of his time as a Bluegrass Boy is this…I wish it had been 400. Is it flawless? No, but it comes closer than any book on Bill Monroe/Bluegrass that I have read.

There is such a great amount of biographical material about Monroe (Kenny Baker, too) that one could imagine the book being classified as a Monroe biography. And some of the information is of the never-heard-before type.

For example, on page 57-58, Hembree sheds light on Monroe and alcohol, “…he’s pretty much a teetotaler who will nurse a half glass of wine all night.” And “He had some homemade wine, which is the type he liked best, the sweeter the better, and he was passing it out in little Dixie cups.”

Hearsay about Monroe over the years had led me to believe he never drank and was virulently anti-drunkenness. That he took a half glass of wine doesn’t ruin my estimation of him; it makes him human, similar to the way Richard Smith’s Can’t You Hear Me Callin’ did.

And then there’s the story about the ambulance to and from a gig. I am thankful for Hembree’s clarification on that episode. I had read or heard that it was after a heart attack; now I know it was a ruptured bladder.

One story after another, Hembree enlightens his reader about the legend of Bill Monroe. He witnessed these first-hand, and there is no reason to disbelieve.

Tales of baseball, tales from Israel and Ireland, tales about performances. On and on, this author shares with us, even some private details perhaps better left untold.

Some of my favorite parts of the book dealt with his time at Bean Blossom. The story of Shorty Hancock almost burning down the music barn was definitely a highlight (p. 125). Hembree’s last day with Monroe was at Bean Blossom, and he reminisces that “I think of it as the place where I first realized I could play music for a living” (p. 183).

I was fascinated, too, by Wayne Lewis particulars. I’ve known Wayne for nigh on 25 years now, interviewed him in ‘03 for my Bluegrass Connections column, and have a great respect for his contributions, not just as a Bluegrass Boy, but also, to the music in general.

A critic can’t review any book without touching on the writer’s craft. Mark Hembree’s writing is exceptional, honed by years of writing and editing after leaving bluegrass in 1988 due to a bus wreck.

His style is fluid; it flows smoothly. His diction is at times poetic. I would think he very well could have written a book of poetry. The chronological organization of the book with sections and chapters makes it easy to follow.

Thematically, this book shines. Whether the author is developing the theme of overcoming adversity or self-discovery or change-vs-tradition, he succeeds.

Chapter 36, “The Accidental Road Manager,” served for me as proof that he had overcome the trials he faced when he first joined the band. On p . 102 he talks about how he finally considered himself a friend of Bill Monroe.

I’ve bragged on the book’s positives. Now, to the negatives, if they can be called that. Some readers certainly won’t think so.

Personally, I didn’t care for the profanity. Admittedly, it does add color to the stories and realism to the people, so I understand why it’s there. Parents should know, though, before letting your younger kids read On the Bus with Bill Monroe, there are numerous “g-d-“ and “f” bombs.

The only other criticism I can level at Hembree is personal in nature as well. He spends a considerable word count on southern language and culture. To a certain extent that is necessary since he was coming from the north into the south and that can be a difficult transition.

But there were moments when I perceived a slight hint of making fun of us southern folks. Could there have been some prejudice on Hembree’s part. Maybe, maybe not, but if I perceived it, others probably could, too.

One example of this I found on p. 26. where Hembree talks about how glad he was when Blake Williams joined the band. He writes, “It was great to have a contemporary (he’s a year younger than me), as well as someone who was part of the southern culture yet articulate and forthcoming.” Southern culture yet articulate?

A reader could interpret that to mean Hembree thinks southerners don’t speak well. Even worse, some might feel that Hembree thinks that being from the north means you can speak better. If this is the case, then, yes, prejudice is there.

Judging by the way Monroe and some of the Bluegrass Boys poked at him, the young Hembree probably felt he was the victim of prejudice as well. Was it all just good-natured ribbing? They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I would add that the eye beholds ugliness as well.

In conclusion, I wish I had read On the Bus with Bill Monroe sooner because Mark Hembree has written a gem. Certainly all bluegrassers should read it, but I wouldn’t stop there. Readers of all sorts will find the humor, the drama, the history, and the eloquent writing a treat.

How ‘bout them C-A-T-S, Cats, Cats, Cats?!

It’s been a long, long while since UK basketball fans have had this much to be excited about. Six years ago was our last Sweet Sixteen.

Actually, last year when a bunch of my family and I attended Mark Pope’s “press conference” in Rupp Arena, it was pretty darn exciting, but no one at that time could know what this season would hold.

If you know me, you know I bleed blue. Have since I can remember. All the way back to 1978, I remember, at my great uncle Lowell Autry’s house in Beaver Dam, watching UK beat Duke for the National Championship. I would have been ten-years-old and in the fourth grade.

The next year, in 5th grade, we boys on the Horse Branch junior pro basketball team pretended we were UK players. David House was Kyle Macy; I was Jay “the Blonde Bomber” Shidler. I’m pretty sure Roger Morris (rest in peace, brother) was Rick Robey. Those were the days!

We won’t talk about memories from 1992, except to say I was with Wayne and Rebecca Simpson at their apartment when my heart was broken.

And then on through the years and more NCAA titles to now. I’ll be honest, although we’re definitely capable of winning (already beat them twice this year), I don’t expect us to beat Tennessee this third time around when we play them in Indianapolis Friday, March 28. But I’m okay with that.

When Pope was hired last year, I said I would be satisfied if he just won one game in the NCAA tournament. He’s won two! The way I see it…we’re playing with house money now.

Pope has been a success, not completely, though. I also said last year I would be satisfied as long as he beat Duke, Louisville, and Arkansas. Like Meatloaf sang in 1977, “Two out of three ain’t bad.”

The only loss I might have trouble handling (it’s a long shot) would be if we lost to Arkansas in the championship game. I don’t expect either team to make it that far anyway, so no sense thinking about it.

This UK team has endeared itself to my heart. These young men, with help from Pope, seem to sincerely care for each other, and they care about Big Blue Nation. Pope has masterfully instilled in them an understanding of what the program means to the Bluegrass State, most of the state anyway.

So, come Friday night I’ll be watching closely, yelling at the TV, and loving every minute of it. Even if we lose this one, my head won’t hang, my heart won’t break.

Thanks to Almonor, Brea, Butler, Carr, Chandler, Darbyshire, Garrison, Horn, Kriisa, Noah, Oweh, Perry, Robinson, Tow, and Williams…it’s been a good year for UK fans…No! It’s been a great year!

So I wrote this Bluegrass song Saturday, March 22. I plan to make a video of me singing it for you in the very near future, but I wanted to share the lyrics with you today.

I managed to work some local geography into this one. “Tunnel Hill” is just east of Rosine, less than a mile I’d say.

It gets its name from the fact that the train used to travel through a tunnel under one of the highest hills in the area before heading on to Elizabethtown or Louisville. If you go online to wckyhistory-genealogy.org, you’ll find where author Jerry Long compiled a history of Rosine.

Two sources he included, among others, were The Kentucky Encyclopedia, edited by John E. Kleber and Fogle’s Papers: a History of Ohio County, Ky by McDowell A. Fogle.

Construction of the railroad began in 1871. One of the leaders of that project was Colonel Henry D. McHenry. His wife Jenny published a book of poems titled Forget Me Not. Guess what her pen name was…that’s right, ROSINE!

The town, which in 1872 had been called Pigeon Roost, was officially named Rosine in 1873.

Anyway, Col. McHenry, who among other things was a coal man and a U.S. Congressman, was influential in getting the railroad built through Rosine.

As I said earlier, when the railroad was built it went through a tunnel just east of Rosine. That area to this day is called Tunnel Hill.

Folks may remember when some local gentlemen, Jeff Morris and Elmer Daugherty included, named their Bluegrass band Tunnel Hill. I apologize for not remembering all the members. It’s been many years since they disbanded.

Sometime between 1871 and now, the tunnel was blasted away so the tracks could run through a cut in Tunnel Hill.

I remember as a kid, me and Jeff’s brother Roger Morris climbing the cliffs on either side of the tracks ‘til perched on a ledge up under the Hwy 505 bridge and tossing small rocks into the rail cars filled with black Kentucky coal as they passed. We were such outlaws! Lol!

Roger and I were best men at each others’ weddings. He died from cancer in January of 2018. He was still young at 50. I still think about him quite often and miss him dearly.

The song…since I put a railroad and train in this new composition, I was able to incorporate Tunnel Hill. So here it is, “Color Me Black.”

Now, blue, it’s my favorite color

But I’m ponderin’ on switchin’ to black

For ever since you left me, Darlin’

I’m slummin’ by the railroad tracks

Those big locomotives black as the coal

They burn up like you burned me down

To hear ‘em come rumblin’ up old Tunnel Hill

Sure paints some sad on my brow

Color me black, black as the night

You walked out and brought on this pain

Color me black, black as these clouds

Pourin’ your memory in rain

Whatever happened to blue skies

When we were together in spring

Along came the doldrums of winter

When, Darlin’, you changed everything

If ever I find another Darlin’

I might go from black back to blue

But that blue won’t ever be pretty

As it was when my Darlin’ was you

Oh, color me black, black as the night

You walked out and brought on this pain

Color me black, black as these clouds

Pourin’ your memory in rain

In the last 40 years or so, I’ve owned beaucoup guitars. I’m pretty sure there are currently seven in the house. Could be eight. I have, in fact, self-diagnosed myself with GAS! For you guitar newbies, that’s Guitar Acquisition Syndrome. It means you’re addicted to the adrenaline rush from acquiring a new guitar.

It’s kinda like cows looking for greener grass. They can be surrounded by lush pasture but still go roaming for better grass. Pickers suffering from GAS can have a perfectly good guitar and still look for something better, or shinier, or louder, etc.

Take me, for instance. No matter how many guitars I have, I’ll always want a Larrivee SD44R. I haven’t found one for the right price, or I already would have one. Here’s the thing, though! When I do finally find and purchase one, there’s no guarantee I’ll keep it. I’m just as likely to form a crush on another guitar.

I recently sampled some Gallagher guitars at SPBGMA in Nashville and set a goal of owning one within five years. But that’s another story for another blog post. Coming soon!

Recently, I needed some extra cash to pay some bills and had to sell my best guitar, a 2023 Martin HD28. Without a doubt, this was a hoss–hands down the best guitar I’ve ever owned. I hated to part with it, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

To replace it, I decided to try a cheaper Martin. HD28’s go for $3500 new these days. I know, I know…some of you are thinking that’s outrageous for a guitar to cost that much, but, Folks, that’s still not even close to what can be paid for a new , or used, guitar these days. And not just Martin’s. I think you can get a Gibson J-45 new for about $3200, a Martin D-41 new for about $6000.

There are plenty of guitars from brands like Martin, Bourgeois, Santa Cruz, Collings, Thompson, Gibson, etc. for $10,000 on up. The truly high prices are for vintage Martins. $20,000 is not uncommon. $100,000 is not unheard of. Right this very minute I’m looking at a guitar online at Guitar Center for $134,999! A Martin Limited Edition D-200 Deluxe.

Like I said earlier, I needed to replace my HD28 and decided to go the other direction in price–down. So after a Saturday at SPBGMA back in February with my great friends Kenneth and Angie Newell, we decided to stop by Guitar Center.

Actually, I had begun sampling guitars while still at SPBGMA. Recording King had a booth, and I tried their RD328, RD318, and RD342.

I continued sampling at Guitar Center. I tried two Martins, a D13 and a D10e. In addition, I tried a Yamaha FX3. Of all these models, I preferred the sound of the Martin D10e, although I wasn’t fond of the white, mother-of-pearl rosette around the soundhole. Still, when I left Nashville and headed home, I had it in my mind to do more research and look for a good price on a D10e.

Back at home in Rosine, Kentucky, I quickly found that the D10e goes for $850-$950 new. It didn’t take long to discover something interesting at Sweetwater.

It seems Sweetwater has contracted with Martin to produce a custom D10e. The complete name of this model is the Martin Sweetwater Select Vintage Inspired Road Series D-10e.

The first thing I noticed is they asked Martin to get rid of the mother-of-pearl rosette that I didn’t like anyway. The Sweetwater model also has an upgraded fretboard and bridge, opting for striped ebony instead of Richlite, although I didn’t like the stripes. For those who don’t know, Richlite is synthetic wood.

Sweetwater had Martin switch to open-back Grover tuners and swap out the standard fretboard dots with diamond and square inlays. Also, they exchanged straight black binding with antique-white binding.

The standard D10e has non-scalloped x-bracing; Sweetwater’s version has scalloped x-bracing. Both versions of the D10e have a solid spruce top, but Sweetwater’s has aging toner added to give it a vintage look.

Both versions sport a Performing Artist neck profile. Both versions are satin-finished. Both versions have a Corian nut, Tusq saddle, and plastic bridge pins. Both versions have sapele back and sides. Sapele is similar in tone to mahogany. So basically what you’re getting with the Sweetwater version is a budget D18.

Oh, I almost forgot! Both versions are electric with a built-in tuner!

All the upgrades come with an added $50 to the sale price. That’s a good deal. Needless to say, I went for it. These models must be selling well because it was backordered.

After waiting an extra month or so, mine arrived. First thing I did was order a set of Tusq bridge pins. I would prefer bone, but remember I was going budget here. High quality bone pins are more expensive. The set of Tusq pins was around $25.

I will say that there are some really cheap bone pins (less than $10) on Amazon, but it’s a crapshoot, and you’ll need to be prepared to do some sanding to make all six fit your bridge pin holes. Quality control is basically non-existent when it comes to these cheap bone pins.

I’ve had the guitar about a month now. The Sweetwater Martin D10e will never measure up to a Martin HD28, or a D18, but I didn’t expect it to. Mainly, it doesn’t have the warmth and balance of the higher end models; however, I do believe it’s going to be good guitar. And it’s only going to get better.

I’m still trying different strings on it to find what I consider its best sound. I need to adjust the action just a tad lower. As for the striped ebony, I’m slowly getting used to it. I tried some lemon oil on the fretboard to see if it would darken. Not even a little. The stripes are there to stay.

I hear that some people actually prefer the stripes. I suppose they think it’s a mark of character. Not me. I prefer the ebony to be uniformly black as black can be. My HD28 was like that, and I loved it.

They say the striped ebony and non-striped have no tonal differences. The striped pattern just indicates both heartwood and sapwood is used. I read that the lighter stripes are from the heartwood, although I would have guessed the opposite.

I haven’t plugged in yet to check out the electronics, but I am very much liking the built-in tuner. It’s user-friendly and accurate.

Anyone looking for a budget friendly acoustic electric guitar should seriously consider this Martin model. By the way, it does come with a soft shell case.

Ultimately, when The Rosine Barn Jamboree opens Friday, April 4, 6pm, I’ll be leading the open-mic segment with my new Martin Sweetwater D10e. That’s less than three weeks away. Wow! Hard to believe the 34th season of The Rosine Barn Jamboree is already upon us. I’m ready! Are you?

A question last night from a good friend reminded me I need to read Mark Hembree’s 2022 book On the Bus: My Five-Year Ride with the Father of Blue Grass.

Hembree played bass for Bill Monroe from 1979 to 1984. He was also a founding member of The Nashville Bluegrass Band. Since I haven’t read it, I can’t comment on the book’s content or quality. Once I have read it, I’ll write a review and post it. Soon!

I recall that back in ’03, for my Bluegrass Connections column, I read and reviewed Richard Smith’s year 2000 Monroe biography Can’t You Hear Me Callin’: The Life and Times of Bill Monroe, the Father of Bluegrass.

Perhaps what I remember most is how one Bluegrass Boy, a friend of mine, disagreed with my assessment of Smith’s book. Apparently, Smith was loose with the facts, something only those close to Monroe would know.

I still appreciate the book for its portrayal of Monroe as human, flawed and imperfect as we all are. Monroe’s vice, if he had any, was women.

As for Mark Hembree’s book, we shall see. I’m looking forward to reading it, particularly for any insight into Monroe’s 1980 heart attack and how Monroe was taken by ambulance to play a show and then by ambulance back to the hospital. What a feat!

As far as I know, I’ve read every other book there is about Bill Monroe, and quite a few are out there. Obviously, some are better than others. Seems that might be an appropriate subject for a future blog post here at Notes of Blue–a rundown of existing Bill Monroe books.

But first, let’s find a copy of Mark Hembree’s On the Bus: My Five-Year Ride with the Father of Blue Grass, probably from Amazon Books. (Wow! There’s another future post–notice Hembree spelled it as two words, “Blue Grass”; whereas, Smith spelled it as one, “Bluegrass.” A retired English teacher like me can’t resist the topic of spelling).

‘Til next time…adios!

(Also, stay tuned for design changes to this blog)

Just wrote this song about thirty minutes ago. It was one of the quick ones. Sometimes it’s like they write themselves. I just pour them out on the screen.

It started with a line that came to me…walkin’ streets in rain at night in Macon, Georgia…(I don’t know why Macon).

You can expect these from time to time. Writing songs is a passion. Sometimes I take them from mere words in my head to fruition and record them with my guitar.

I keep my songs stored in Google Docs (I have managed to learn enough of that tech to get by). I also print copies and keep them in a binder. I think I have close to two-hundred in there now.

As you read it, try to hear a bluesy, country sound, maybe Chris Stapleton’s voice, or Steve Wariner, Tom T. Hall perhaps…And stay tuned as I may end up adding guitar and recording…

Macon, Georgia

Chorus

Walkin’ streets in rain at night in Macon, Georgia

Just tryin’ to get a little sense of where I need to go

The bus just left the station, she was on it, Lord, leavin’ Macon, Georgia

Five more hours ’til sunup, guess I’ll head on down this weathered road

There’s an old man in a cardboard box, starin’ out into the rain

How many miles did he go before he ended up right here

Suppose he finally gave it up, lookin’ for his life to finally change

Hope I don’t end up like him, waitin’ for gray skies to finally clear

Repeat Chorus

You know the last thing that she said to me as she was stepping up into the Greyhound

She said, find yourself, find someone, find your life, wish I’d found it with ya

Then she sighed and went on in, the door closed, man, it’s really hit me now

I watched her ’til her tail lights disappeared, damn this rain can really chill ya

Repeat chorus

Bridge

If I make it down another street, there will be another

And one more after that, they go rolling on as Macon, Georgia thunders

Repeat Chorus

Todd Autry March 13, 2025