margarine

I know. I misspelled it in the last post. Slathered it on too....
Well, I have an idea how to get more people reading this. And it has pretty much stayed intact as a PG-13 kind of blog.
Boring often, but, well, mine. Dark, I am told. Well, hell, I am a lonely old man with a wild life, a wild insane unpredictable life, and musical gifts (songs just come to me, and they are good) My hearing is a bit damaged in my right ear, y'hear?
And I live up on an old Black Colony in Texas. And I am said to be a hippie.
You both know all this.
My grandson's name is Keaton, and he is of mixed ancestry, men and women.

Tonight a strange and wonderful thing happened. mark O'connor, whom I do respect, though I am not able to reel off his discography (and when I went to see him 4 years ago, he played swing, and I fell asleep) MYSPACE FRIENDED ME!!! O My Gawd! Well. Maybe I'll send him a record. a valentine. I already pitched me as a possible teacher at one of the camps.
Big apple here I come. Or big banana.

What I want to do is produce the definitive Texas Style Contest Fiddle Record. 2 players. I won't name them. I am not one of them. I would distribute it for free.
The question is, would people believe in it if it didn't sound like an old crappy ghetto blaster??

Belief is important. Or not. If I don't do this record before February '09, please scold me, take me to task.
I also want to get this band started, The Sweet Bunch of Daisies. Four fiddle players, all sing, all double on other instruments.
Material to be original, but old-timey, and new-timey. Is this mere fantasy? Or just fantasy.