I am in a hornet’s nest of traffic trying to make a left turn into a paid parking lot off 10th Street and Monroe Avenue in Atlanta. I was slow to get over in the left lane. My long-wheelbase truck is blocking both lanes behind me because I am catawampussed across all painted lines. The oncoming cars are not being generous. The aforementioned cars behind me are wishing I would take my country-self back to where I belong.

Welcome to Piedmont Park.

Today is the Blues and BBQ fundraiser for WRFG radio. EG Kight and Kat Riggins are set to perform. EG is from Dublin, Georgia and she has the sultry kind of voice that can make a grown man weep. The BBQ ribs are good, and the music is even better.

I love the names of the bands that turn out for a gig like this. First on the stage is Jackson and the Nightcaps. The second set is William “Blues Man” Reed and the Juke Joint Dukes. The blues have a whole different feel than the classic rock I grew up with. Same guitar, bass and drums but a different vibe. The lyrics can be sad, or they can be playful.

“If you ain’t got no reservation, you can make a reservation with me.”

If you don’t know it already, the blues came along before rock and roll. It is truly an American style of music. New Orleans. Chicago. Memphis. The players from those towns each have made their own mark on a 12-bar progression that is played over and over again. It can shuffle. It can drive. It can growl.

The blues are hardly ever played on the pop radio stations, which is why a public station like WRFG is a big deal for these artists. If you’re not into the blues, you’ve never heard of them. These musicians live and die on festivals like this one and they probably play here today for peanuts just to help WRFG stay afloat. Only a few ever get the chance to record with a major label.

I’m guessing you know BB King.

But most of them don’t play for the fame. They play because the music is in their soul. The stories they tell are about good women and broken hearts. Lonely nights and bad luck. Rainy days and hard times. The guitar screams with pain. The harmonica moans with sadness. A good sax player can make you fall to your knees. If you’ve ever agonized over anything in life, you recognize the shades of blue in this music.

The Park Tavern is a great venue. A huge outdoor space covered with a white tent. The side flaps tied up with a view to the park. A dance floor in front of the stage. Electric fans stirring a cool breeze on a warm Labor Day afternoon. Free refills on your drinks as long as you want.

My sister used to be a volunteer DJ for WRFG. My kids came up with the idea that we should get together here to honor Marian and to be a part of an event that she helped make happen for over a decade. I never knew anyone who loved the blues more than she did.

When we stood at the front table buying our tickets, a lady came up to me.

“Hi. I’m Julie. You’re Marian’s brother, aren’t you?”

I recognized Ginger. She hugged my neck. “Marian would be so glad you came.”

Susan: “Oh, you’re Marian’s brother. You just gotta get out there and dance. Your sister loved to dance.”

Another lady: “Hey, you’re that guy that writes a journal. Maybe it’s a blog. I can’t remember what it is, but you’re Marian’s brother. Did you see her picture on the back of the program?”

It’s nice to be famous. I have spent most of my life being known as Marian’s brother. Some things never change.

I am a pretend musician, which means that I have some appreciation for what it takes to pull off the music up on stage today. I am not a drummer, but I like watching the drummer. He is the anchor that sets the groove and I know enough to know that the music lives or dies on his touch.

During the set with William “Blues Man” Reed, I could tell that his drummer was working hard. The lift in his shoulders. The sway of his torso. He was feeling every move of the music.

My friend, Marion, came with me and I leaned over to her ear. “This guy’s good.” By her own confession she says she has no rhythm, but I saw her keeping time with her foot. The rhythm is in there. You just gotta let it out.

At an event like this, all the musicians bring their own gear except for the drummer. Guitars and pedal boards are swapped out between sets. Amps are set and reset. Harmonicas come fresh out of the case. But the drummer uses the kit provided on stage. He might adjust the seat or check out the feel, but he’s mostly ready to go right from the start.

When EG Kight came out, she had one other guitar player with her and a drummer. Their sound check took forever, largely because the drummer was taking his sweet time. He brought his own snare. He opened up a case and replaced all the cymbals. Then he started tapping the mounted toms with his fingers.

He adjusted the angle and tapped some more. Then he swapped the left one to the right and the right one to the left. He took them off and looked them over. He remounted them. More tapping. He got out his tuning key and made more adjustments. He moved every mic around his kit.

This went on so long that I started thinking that this guy is either a prima-donna or he really knows what he’s doing.

The soundcheck finally came to an end.

Once EG got going, I could tell why this guy practically reset the entire drum kit. He was unbelievable. It was evident that he was not there to steal the show but to support perfectly every note and every change that came from her guitar and voice. He set the pocket so tight that you couldn’t separate the feel of the music from the music itself. Every roll, every cymbal grab, every rim shot, every bass pedal was spot-on.

On top of that, he played the harmonica in the fills and never lost his way.

I told Marion, “I take back what I said about the other drummer. This guy is great.”

I’m not the kind of fan who will ever belong to the Atlanta Blues Society. I like too many different genres to be locked in on one style of music. But you can’t help but have a good time when the music is right.

“I love the tip. I love the top. I love you better than a hog loves slop,
Cause you’re a big legged woman in a short, short miniskirt.”

How can you not have fun with the blues?