Salem Jamlet Becomes a Jam

When the weather became too chilly for the Salem Jamlet to meet out on the ocean, I convinced the owner of a nearby restaurant called Scratch Kitchen to host us. A few days before the first Scratch Kitchen jam, the two most regular players let me know that they could not attend. One by one, the usual suspects from our miniscule pool of players suddenly became unavailable and nightmarish images began to churn through my mind--one not-so-happy novice fiddler attempting to play alone while diners look on, some horrified, others mildly annoyed. Tomatoes hurled across the room, splattering on my beloved fiddle. The day of the jam, I frantically emailed or called everyone I could think of, including musicians from Boston that I had met at various workshops. I begged and I pleaded, but no one seemed to be available.

I arrived at Scratch, prepared for the worst. Shortly after the jam was scheduled to begin, a highly skilled fiddler I had met at Rustic Roots hobbled through the door, armed with crutches, guitar and fiddle. And I knew that all would be well. Over the next ten minutes, several other unexpected players appeared, the jam went smoothly, and we were invited to continue meeting at Scratch Kitchen.

In the new year Scratch will not be open on Monday nights, so tonight marked our first jam at Howling Wolf--a much larger, heavily populated Mexican restaurant. When I arrived, several newcomers to the jam were already seated, carefully applying rosin to their bows. Musicians proceeded to pour through the door until we were spilling out of the alcove Howling Wolf had allotted to us. Thirteen players. Several professional musicians or teachers. Fiddles, guitars, banjo, standup bass, uke, even a hammered dulcimer.

Before me was a mass of friends and strangers, all better musicians than myself, and somehow I was supposed to lead it. Couldn't someone else take charge? Anyone but the girl who got her first fiddle six months ago. I didn't even know how to get everyone's attention so that I could welcome the newcomers. I quietly asked a friend to start "Over the Waterfall" with me and by the third time through, everyone had jumped in and we found one another through the beat and melody of an old familiar tune. We played it over and over and by the time the tune ended, the beast before me had become one body and we played together as such for the next two hours.

Come join us at Howling Wolf on Monday, January 16, 6:00-8:00.