This National Treasure known as The Little Grill Collective has now been insufficiently memorialized in my poem.
What more can be said?
Mucho.
When I first started avidly following 'bluegrass' bands in Charlottesville, Virginia 116 years ago, every once in a while one of them would appear at The Little Grill (it wasn't a 'collective' then, just a diner.).
What a mythical site it must be! Even more so because my transportation-challenged self had no way to get there.
When I finally did, I was not disappointed. It was indeed a place fit for the gods. The very best place to launch a new musical act. The very best place to enjoy new musical acts.
I read my new stuff there Thursday nights--thanks to the continuing good graces of Chris Howdyshell of Red River Roller Coaster fame--to give me a chance to make it less-than-embarassing. It's a supportive, but certainly no lay-down, crowd.
Come one night and see for yourself.
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