I An't Gonna Work On Logan's Farm No More

About a dozen years ago we would go to the Acworth Opry one night a month held in a old barn on Logan's Farm.  It was always interesting and many bluegrass artists gathered.  They jammed all around on the outside of the barn and inside the barn was a stage with bluegrass musicians groups play.  They kept to a prearranged schedule.

One group that played there often consisted of  a daughter, in her 20s or early 30s, her pa,  wo was very unpretentious, and the little brother, probably a late teenager, who wasn't little at all.  We called him "Joe".  We called him Joe because he looked a lot like Joe, our neighbors' son.

Joe did not actually sing or play.  He just stood there holding his guitar and gazed at the audience.   I guess he was just filling a visual need.

Very soon I may know exactly how Joe felt back then.  I am to be on a panel at the Marietta Museum of History discussing public housing in the 1940s.