Freedom Is Measured Out In An Environment Of Obstacles

Nova Scotia Bluegrass Festival
Aug., ‘82

Bicycling was good, a little breezy, but not overly difficult. Last
night, when it came time to camp, Michelle and I agreed to share the price of a
campground, but before we could find one, we came to a sign that read
the 11th annual Nova Scotia Bluegrass Festival. Michelle was not too
excited about it until I regaled her with stories about the Wheatland
Traditional Music Festival that I attended almost annually. She still
was a little hesitant, but she agreed to give it try. We spent the
night listening to some excellent music, some fair music, and some not
so good music, but Michelle didn't care. As far as I could tell, she
had an excellent time, and that was what I hoped would happen. There
is still two more days of music and we are planning to catch most of
it before we head out on Sunday.

Aug 2

According to my belief system, we are free to direct and determine
many aspects of our lives. However, life being what it is—part of a
much larger whole, that freedom is restricted. It is measured out in
an environment of obstacles. Becoming familiar with the terrain makes
it easier to make good decisions. In other words, as individuals, we
either ignore or utilize the opportunities that are presented to us
and, for me, spending time with Michelle was an opportunity of the
most inviting sort. In fact, this entire trip has been an incredible
opportunity that in almost every case has produced positive results. I
can't explain it, but I certainly do appreciate it. Things keep
getting better and better and better. True, this luck, in many ways,
is a product of both judgment and opportunity, but I find the way it
continues to expand absolutely overwhelming. I sent a message to Bill
wishing him well on his bicycle trip home.

Yesterday, Michelle and I spent the day in the hot sun listening to
excellent music. Joy and happiness were infectious at this festival.
After listening to the Jarvis Bennoit Quartet, which might be the best
band I have heard, exception taken for the Paul Winter Consort, we met
Earl. He and his friends were camping in the beautiful pine forest
next to us. After introductions, he said, "If we like you, you're
family, and we like you." Being family meant free access to all the
alcohol we could drink (Michelle didn't like to drink, so I practiced
some abstinence—less than a six pack the entire time), and a dinner of
the best chowder I've ever tasted—potatoes, onions, haddock and
lobster. Donnie, the black fisherman out of Yarmouth, who everybody
admired for his excellent guitar playing and cordial nature, cooked up
the chowder. Dessert came when Donnie picked up his guitar and played
the hell out of the Jamaican song Marianne. Billy, the banker, and
Vern, the septuagenarian, accompanied him on the fiddle, while Elto
kept the music together and flowing on percussion. We had just as much
fun at our campsite as we did down at main stage.

As I write this, Donnie has already informed me that breakfast will be
ready shortly. Last night, after the last set of music finished on the
main stage, Micelle and I toured the campsites. We enjoyed the many
different musicians we found jamming together. It was a great evening
and, for us, it came to an end around 3 am. In fact, Michelle is still
in her tent sleeping. It's too bad that she has a boyfriend. I know we
could have shared even more if she would have let her guard down even
a little. I was okay with that, though. It's just that there's always
a desire for more, especially when boy likes girl and vice versa. The
romantic in me, however, still believes that Michelle, like this
entire trip, is a gift, and perhaps, just perhaps, if Michelle is
willing, our chance acquaintance might yet turn into something more
meaningful and lasting.