If you know me, you know that March always finds me busily cramming Irish tunes back into my head in preparation of St. Paddy's Day! So this will be a short post! Please check the calendar to see where I'll be playing this month! And if you find yourself in need of some o' the green to be wearin', we'll have our Heyday shirts for sale at all upcoming gigs!
Also, I once again submitted to the NPR Tiny Desk contest. This year's entry is especially close to my heart as it was inspired by my dear friend Harrison “Not Ford” Gruman.
Below is the video of the song. I'd be much obliged if you'd give it a listen, and if it tickles your fancy, please feel free to give it a thumbs up and share it far and wide. Many thanks.
NPR also invited me to share the story of my song, and here's what I wrote:
Any Better, I'd Be Twins was inspired by my friend Harrison "Not Ford" Gruman. He was a wise and generous friend, a musician, a storyteller, a songwriter, a retired National Park Ranger, and quite the character. Any time you asked the question, "how are you doing?" he would always answer: "if I got any better, I'd be twins." I fell for that one a lot throughout the years.
Originally from Alabama, Harrison spent a lot of time on Cape Cod, where I live, and I met him through the open mic community there. His house was in Eastham, near Cape Cod Bay, and he would often host music jams around the solo stove campfire on the deck at his place, which he lovingly dubbed "the Block from the Bay Café." He sold his place to his good friend Craig in January of 2020, bought a mobile home, and headed south to Alabama for the winter. He continued to summer on Cape, and he would park his trailer in our yard in Harwich. He called it the K&B campground, named for me and my husband Billy, and his "campsite," in front of the garage, was affectionately referred to as "the Lower 40."
He still spent a lot of his time on Cape in Eastham, busking for the breakfast crowd at Hole In One donuts, playing farmer's markets, or serenading the sunset crowd at Campground Beach. Despite being an incredibly healthy guy, who worked out every day and followed an organic, pescatarian diet, Harrison found himself diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in October of 2023. He was given 5 - 7 months to live. So I started visiting him in Alabama.
On my second trip down, in June of 2024, he and his other half, Suzi, took me to see Will Kimbrough at Callaghan's Irish Social Club in Mobile. It was a CD release show, and Will was talking at length about his song-writing process, and mentioned how one of the songs, When This is All Over, was inspired by something a friend said to him: "when this is all over, I'm gonna hug your neck so hard." The story of that song inspired me to write my song using my friend Harrison's catch phrase: "if I got any better I'd be twins." I began writing the song on Harrison's beautiful Luna guitar in Alabama, and I worked on it over the next few months.
In January of 2025, I went down to Alabama one last time. Despite outliving his prognosis by almost a year, Harrison wasn't doing so well at this point. But he managed to find the strength, with help from Suzi, to make his way over from Fairhope, Alabama, to his friend Ted's house in Mobile, to help christen Ted's new music room. Harrison accompanied me on my song that day. It was the last time we played together. He left this earthly plane a few weeks later, on January 30, 2025. He was 76 years old.
Ten days later, on a brutally cold February day, I made my way to Harrison's beach in Eastham to record my song for him. It was a cloudy day, but the sun broke through the cloud cover just a few moments before sunset. I felt he was smiling down at me from the great beyond. Until we meet again, my friend.
You can check out some of Harrison's original songs and stories on his website: harrisonnotford.com.
Here's a photo of Harrison and I getting ready to play a few tunes together at Wellfleet Porchfest this past summer.
And I know the world might seem a little crazy right now, but something else Harrison always said to me has been stuck in my brain and seems to be keeping me grounded these days: “be here now.” Because, in the end, I suppose that's all we can do.
