Category Archives: MJ’s Story/ Blog

Photography is… No. 1-Immortality

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First in a series about photography and why I (Mary Jane Farmer) love it so much. Some of this is ‘borrowed’ from another source, most  is uniquely my own.

Photography creates immortality — Every Thanksgiving, my family is at my house. It’s tradition. The grandkids take out the old photo albums and go through them, again and again. It’s different somehow than seeing photos on a cell phone or social media. They laugh and they remember and relive those good times. And they also remember those gone on before them with just seeing the smiling faces of their loved ones preserved in a photo.

Robert Shaw, photo by Mary Jane Farmer

The four photos I am posting with this article are not family by origin, but all musicians, family by choice, who have all gone on ahead of me, of us. They played Kerrville Folk Festival when I was there as assistant to Producer Rod Kennedy, and as staff coordinator.

Robert Shaw. Robert was a powerhouse of a blues and boogie-woogie piano player. He was 77 when he passed away in 1985. Besides his talent that he shared not only on stage, but around the grounds, he enhanced everyone around him with that incredible, loving grin. The last time he left Quiet Valley Ranch, he pulled his car over to me and said, “I’m fixing to do something the devil hasn’t even done yet, Mary Jane.” “What’s that, Robert?” I asked. “I’m going to leave you now.” And with that his driver went on out the gate and I could hear him laughing as hard as I w

  • Townes Van Zandt photo by Mary Jane Farmer

    Townes Van Zandt. Townes had talent far ahead of his time and his peers, and people sat mesmerized every time he stepped on the Kerrville Folk Festival stage. He was 53 at the time of his passing in 1997. I and Kennedy drove him to Austin, years before that, following one of his stays at a treatment center, trying to get away from the addictions that consumed him. That night, he was to appear on “Austin City Limits” then filmed on University of Texas property. We walked into the green room with him, and it was filled with the smoke, smells, and availability of illegal/dangerous drugs, the very poison that he had been running from. Someone may hate me for saying this, but even his band members, his musician friends, didn’t care enough to help keep temptation away from him.

    Stan Rogers photo by Mary Jane Farmer

  • Stan Rogers. Stan and I became instant good friends during the days he, his brother Garnet, and fellow Canadians Al Simmons and Connie Kaldor were at Kerrville Festival in 1983. We laughed together and with others. At The Inn of the Hills over dinner, we danced, we ate escargot, and later he sang me the last song he was writing at the time, one commissioned of him for a movie. The others flew back to Canada on schedule, Stan stayed one extra night, because he wanted one more night of campfire pickin’.
  • I always got a hotel room during festivals because my cabin became the green room for performers. Middle of the night it was when the phone rang, an AP reporter wanting a comment from me about the Canadian who had died in a plane that night. “What Canadian?” I asked. “Well, I can’t say, but can you make a statement?” What? She began to tell me the story of how the plane made an emergency landing, and as she talked I figured out it was Stan. I spent the next day having to tell others, starting with Chief of Security and Kennedy himself, one new friend of Stan’s at a time

    Wayne Kennemer, Photo by Mary Jane Farmer

    about his demise. Also had to work with Pedro Gutierrez, who had recorded all of Stan’s set, to get it mixed and mastered and quickly sent to BBC TV, being as Canada is under British government and they called from across the big pond asking for our help. No chance to cry, to mourn, to grieve, to talk about him. Business as usual, hoping and helping to keep staff together. It was a year after that festival before I could even listen to his music, it was that hard. He was 34 and had already made a positive impact on the world. He will remain with me always.

  • Wayne Kennemer. Wayne was a friend who lived in Kerrville. And one heckuva good musician. He and I would meet for breakfast mornings. He taught me to add some mustard to my ketchup for even more flavor. He was involved in the filming of “The Alamo-ThePrice of Freedom” for the Imax Theater in San Antonio. It was quite a treat to interview my own good friend about the filming and all the intrinsic pleasures and lessons he had gotten out of being involved. His name isn’t on the credits anywhere, but he was there, involved, and important in his assigned way to its success.

 

Kinky Freidman — Still The Kinkster

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Courtesy Photo

Lately, I’ve been listening to Kinky Freidman’s newest CD in about, oh, say, 40-ish years. It’s called Circus of Life and is due out in about three weeks, or July 3 to be more specific. And, believe or trust me, it’s well worth the money. The Texas Jewboy has not lost his touch, not at all. Not quite as much satire as his 1970s and 80s stuff. More romantic and spiritual, believe it or not!

He had laid down his songwriting pen for quite a while, and, he said in a press release, the CD project started with a call to him from Willie (Nelson, of course). Willie asked Kinky what he was doing at that moment, and Kinky said he answered, “Watching Matlock.” Willie replied, “That’s a sure sign of depression, Kinky. Turn Matlock off and start writing.”

He did. Kinky did. And thus this new CD.

But, for the purposes of this blog, (and people ask me to write down my tales of my early days in the music industry, which happened in Kerrville, through the grace of Rod Kennedy, then the producer of the Kerrville Music Festivals in 1980. More about that here in Scene In Town in my “about” section), I wanna tell you my favorite Kinky story. And there are a few others, shorter… For instance, a shorter one is when he played a Mexican food restaurant there in Kerrville. He was playing one of his undoubtably questionable lyric songs, “Help me with this bugger,” he said in introduction. The short version of “Old Ben Lucas” ends with “Old Ben Lucas had a lot of mucus, coming right out of his nose. He’d pick and pick til it made you sick and back again it’d grows.” And it made someone not that used to Kinky and his sense of humor sick, really sick, if you know what I mean.

Kinky lived only a few miles away from Quiet Valley Ranch, and so he was often seen around the area.

It was in 1986 when cigar-smoking Kinky ran for the office of Kerr County Justice of the Peace, as an independent. He didn’t place well in the polls, but he sure had a lot of fun.

One day, I was coming out of the Kerrville U.S. Post Office, which was up a high flight of stairs, and on the way down saw a TV crew interviewing Kinky right in front of the P.O. I decided to just stand back and watch and listen. Stopped about 2/3 of the way down those steps, or 1/3 way to the sidewalk. Didn’t realize I was in the view of the cameras, in fact I was trying to avoid being in them.

The interview was fun, as Kinky’s music and lifestyle was, and done. Afterward, I said hello to him, we talked a minute or four, and I walked back to my Jeep. Just as I was getting in, I realized my jeans were unzipped — wide open — they had been that whole time. And the resulting news program definitely showed me behind Kinky. Now, it was a little harder to see the zipper, especially in those days of no-rewind, no-pause, no-record television. I never asked Kinky if he noticed that, if he knew! But, of course, I knew! It’s OK to laugh, I can laugh at myself!, and Kinky probably would have laughed himself! I’ll ask him someday. I’m getting an interview with The Kinkster about the CD and his tour ongoing. Oh, and he’ll be stopping by Poor David’s Pub in Dallas July 30 on this tour. See you there?

‘nuf said.

 

Packin’ up for the road

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Mary Jane Farmer, Texas Nexus, August 2017

It’s a 3-column list I have worked up — “PACK UP” it’s called. It’s what I have to reference and cling to when getting ready to go to all the music festivals in my life. And there’s a bunch!

Me and Hippie Van head out. She has clean oil, and a clean floor every time. Ready for the road. Of course, she’s packed to the hilt. And for that, I need “Pack Up.”

Clothing: Lots of bandanas (after all, it gets hot at most of those festivals), but a jacket for those chillier nights. Shoes, boots, rain boots, and of course a boot jack. Heavy shoes and boots, not those flimsy rubber thongs. I wore a pair of leather sandals to one of my first Kerrville Fests, they broke, and it was producer Rod Kennedy who — not so gently — chided me for even thinking those were good on that rocky terrain. At WoodyFest, I (and the other 4 photographers) have to go back and forth between four daytime stages, a

“I’ve been replaced by this?” the horse seems to be asking?

couple of churches and nursing homes, and so hard-core walking boots are best there. And believe me, I’ve put the mud boots — we used to call them galoshes — to use many times.

And then there’s the camera equipment — a monopod, a tripod, chargers, extra SD cards, extra batteries, extra camera, plenty of lenses — in fact, all I own. And of course I need my computer to upload those photos and get some of them worked in time to share them while the event is still going on. Again, charge cord, extra batteries for the mouse and keyboard, flash drives, external hard drive. And to tote all that, I have a luggage pull-along. Beyond that, I have to rely on the kindness of strangers to carry my lawn chair.

Essential is my large towel, clearly marked “Photog” with neon yellow duck tape, just in case there’s any question that’s what I do, and it is placed to reserve the best photo vantage-point seat in the house for me.There’s also a few laminated print-outs, too, to designate seats as “Reserved for Festival Photographer.” Sometimes it’s good to have a seat at both ends of the stage.

Lots of energy powders and liquids. And for food, I take anything I can put in a bowl and cover with milk or slather cream cheese onto. Not about to spend time cooking! There’s too many photos that need to be taken! And I can’t forget my “Show-Off Album” of photos I’ve taken over the years.

After all that, plus clothing, more groceries, meds and vitamins — really, there is still room for me in Hippie Van.

The next festivals Hippie Van and I will be traveling to are: Kerrville Fall Festival, Sept 1-3; Wounded Heroes benefit, Sept. 8-9; and LJT’s Rhymes & Vines, Sept. 20-23. Look ‘em up.

9 Stevie Ray Vaughan at Celebrate Austin Music

Courtesy photo

Because you asked…

The Celebrate Austin Music Festival at Zilker Park, circa April 15, 1984, was filled with Austin-based touring acts with generous sprinklings of up-and-comers. A lot of that information is in Rod Kennedy’s book, Music of the Heart, written many years before his 4-14-14 death.

It had been a long three-day event, and I was pretty well exhausted by the time to begin working with the Sunday night performers and logistics. You see, I primarily worked with all the “things that could go wrong (or right),” and let Rod be free to handle the stage and “be the good guy,” which he did so well. Musicians everywhere would do practically anything for Rod Kennedy — he treated them that well!

However, one that was a little cautious that night was the closing act, Stevie Ray Vaughan and his band, Double Trouble. Rod had made sure that everything in his, and all the other musicians’, contracts was in order. At the last minute, Vaughan’s road manager required one more monitor, saying it was necessary because of Vaughan’s hat that he always wore on stage. We were able to accomplish that.

But then, only a few short hours before Vaughan’s slotted time on the stage, that same road manager approached me, saying that he’d heard that sometimes Kennedy wasn’t able to pay his performers, and that Vaughan wouldn’t go on until all the money in his contract had been paid up front.

OK, that was several thousand dollars. But, to make it happen, I collected cash from every source — the tickets, the t-shirt sales, beer sales — and gathered up the cash. But, by then, I was a little ticked… like I said, it was the final day and I (as had everyone else) had worked hard and was really beat.

Also feeling a bit the need to stay in control…

I took the cash to town, and had it all converted into $5 bills, all several thousand dollars in $5 bills. Then, took it back to the road manager. OK, he was happy; but my Imp of the Perverse was still in charge… I told the road manager, “No, I need you to count it out and sign for it.” What? He asked.

I took him into our make-shift office trailer, and had him count every single $5 bill until it reached the required total sum. That took a little bit more than “a short while.” But he did, he signed the paper work, and then Stevie Ray Vaughan and his band did what they did best — totally great music and performance.

After the night was over, and as stage crews broke down the stages and sound and lights, etc., someone set up some music and many of us just made an after-party of it.

That road manager and I danced together several times— many times. He finally broke the ice, saying, that was the best gimmick he’d ever had pulled on him. He totally liked it. He also said that it was his job to be the ‘bad guy’ for Stevie Ray Vaughan, so that Vaughan could always be ‘the nice guy,’ and I laughed when I told him that I had that same responsibility to Rod Kennedy.

We left, he and I, complete friends.

And speaking of that friend, I wish I could remember his name — that was nearly 33 years ago, and I’ve slept since then. He probably has, too.

 

My time in the music business

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This was first in Buddy Magazine, August 2016 issue.

Me and the Dirty River Boys

Me and the Dirty River Boys

People ask me a lot — why am I in the music business? OK, I’ll share the secret – it was a guy who got me into all this. While teaching school in El Paso, I met another teacher, a musician, out there and that chance meeting and subsequent (though long-since-dead) romance began it all, with working as volunteers at the Border Folk Festival, Chamizal National Park in El Paso.

He was accepted as a New Folk songwriting finalist at the Kerrville Folk Festival. And that introduced me to the Kerrville Festivals. That was in 1975. I began volunteering there in 1976, and jumped in with both feet in 1980, when I accepted the position of assistant to producer Rod Kennedy.

It was a year-round, full-time job in which, during festivals, I was

Me and the great Kent Finlay

Me and the great Kent Finlay

responsible for overseeing 18 days of the big festival and at other events throughout the year, allowing Kennedy the freedom to host the stage with ease. Together, we also produced classical, bluegrass, folk, and country music festivals, and traveled and held festivals across Texas, the United States, and Mexico.

Even then, I couldn’t figure out just why I stayed in the music business — it certainly wasn’t for the money. As Bob Gibson (Abilene, Abilene) told me… “the music business, you can make tens of dollars every year.” Then I saw that movie, Amadeus, and the line hit me right in the third-eye: (Loosely paraphrased) “Why did God implant the desire for music like a lust in my body? And then deny me the talent?” I am no musician, believe me, but it occurred to me —I have talent. I can produce, I can organize, I can photograph, I can write, I can manage, I can book… I can show up, over and over.

In 1986, Texas Governor Mark White invited me, because of that earlier El

Me, Matt and Jamie

Me, Matt and Jamie

Paso/Chamizal affiliation, to produce the state’s 7-stage, 2-day official Sesquicentennial Festival at San Jacinto Battleground State Park. Egads, what a trip — literally. Folks from the governor’s office picked me up in a state airplane and flew me to San Jacinto, and we picked all the sites for the stages, then back to Kerrville to go to work. So much to remember, and it all wasn’t on the PBS documentary that followed. For instance, seeing Leon Rausch cry when 6-year-old fiddle students played “Deep In The Heart of Texas” along with the Texas Playboys. Or having Louise Mandrell lead “Happy Birthday” to Texas with thousands singing along. And the finale — Willie Nelson and his band with the Houston Symphony. Gov. White inducted me as a “Yellow Rose of Texas” and Texas Parks & Wildlife passed a resolution in my honor — I call them my “whereas-es…” “Whereas Mary Jane Farmer did… blah blah… ” A better word might be ‘references.’

I have also been a booking agent and office assistant for several performers including Steve Young, Allen Wayne Damron and others; finder of songs for Tompal Glaser’s studio in Nashville; and a record distributor (both independent and with Polygram Records), all while holding down “real” jobs, including delving into the newspaper reporting business.

In 1999, I became the police beat reporter for the area’s daily newspaper.

Me, Javier, Walter

Me, Javier, Walter

Five years later, I convinced the paper to begin publishing more about live music, hence the birth of the “Texoma Live Music Scene.”

I had sat at home between 1996, when I moved to Van Alstyne (‘cause the grandkids were all up in North Texas) from the musically-active Kerrville, until 2004, not knowing there was so much incredible music in North Texas. There was no listing of nightly events, and creating a calendar became my focus passion.

The newspaper shrunk, as newspapers are doing, and it dropped the music page. Quickly, I established SceneInTown.com to take up the slack, not wanting to let the musicians and venues down.

I left the newspaper in 2012, and again began dedicating my time to the music business.

I consider myself an accomplished, though non-professional (as I’m still

Me, relaxing at Larry Joe Taylor festival

Me, relaxing at Larry Joe Taylor festival — Really, I was just ‘resting my eyes’!

waiting on that first dollar to come in) photographer. I was the photographer for all KHYI events, including the Shiner Rising Star contests, and Texas Music Revolutions for many years; and am photographer for Choctaw Casinos‘ national music concerts; again at Kerrville Festivals, and this year at WoodyFest in Okemah, Oklahoma, and at CrudeFest in Midland.

I joined the Buddy Magazine staff in 2013, both a privilege and a pleasure. I began booking the live music for El Patio Escondido in Van Alstyne in 2014, and a portion of the Thursday night events at Hank’s Texas Grill in McKinney this year.

That man who got me into all this (I gotta remember to thank him some day) also wrote a song about me in those early years, centered on my trip to El Paso when, scared to death, I left my husband. “… ahead was only darkness, to her back there was a light, but she couldn’t turn around for all

Me and the Kentucky Headhunters

Me and the Kentucky Headhunters

her fear and all her fright.” I am so glad I didn’t turn around. Life has been one long, bumpy/smooth/chaotic/exciting ride — much longer than that trip to El Paso — every since.

If there’s any one more important thing I love about being in the music business, it’s the musicians, no matter what level of notoriety they own. They are, beyond question, the kindest, most generous group of people in the Lone Star State.