Doc Stevens

Tondeleo: Whenever I hear Doc and Marilyn and the band play, I always hear songs that I have never heard before in  my life. Some of what they play I have heard somewhere before, but most of it is new to me. They sing a lot of originals, but a lot of what they do, Doc says is old stuff, stuff that everybody ought to know. 

But I have asked other musicians at venues and events where they play, and other musicians also shake their
heads and say they have no idea where Doc and Marilyn's songs come from. Like me, they are familiar with some of them, or others they might say they might have heard when they visited their grandmum's house years ago, but they basically don't know where the songs come from, or why they are played the way they are.

Doc: I play the songs I love and I play them how I feel them. Marilyn does, too. That's it. I don't never try to play it like the original 'cause I couldn't anyway. Matter o'  fact, the original artists ain't play them again like they did on the record - 'cept for George Thorogood, cause he always plays it word for word, note for note from the record to one concert to the next - but everybody else changes it from one time to the next, depending on their mood.

Like, when the original group is recording, they might do five or ten takes of the song. Finally, they get enough of it right that they can mix it into a song. But all of those takes ain't identical. Close, but not identical. Then when you hear the group play live, they always change it up a bit from the record as we know it.

But the deal is this. They don't sound just like the record, but they always sound like themselves, not somebody else. So if I play it or you play it or someone else plays it, why are we supposed to sound like the original band did on that one take that came out as the final release?

Guess what? We ain't gonna sound like them if we tried. Maybe close, but mostly not. The voice will be different, the tone will be different, other things will be different. But worse than that, we won't even sound like ourselves! I ain't gonna be happy tryin' to sound like someone else and failin'! I might as well sound like me and play the way I feel it.

If I don't like a song, I ain't gonna sing it. I ain't gonna play it, neither. If I DO like it, I'm gonna FEEL it. And that is the only way I'm gonna play it. Marilyn's the same way. So's the rest of the band. That's how we all got together in the first place. We just play what we love and play it the way we feel it. Most of what we play, the rest of the band ain't never heard the original anyway.

Tondeleo: So, WHERE do you get your material? Most of us have never heard these songs before... 

Doc: Well, Tondy, some of them I grew up hearin' from my relative's record players, at family gatherin's and such. Others I found on records what we got from the landfill, what other people was throwin' away. Some was so scratched up I had to make up the words where they wasn't playin' right, and I still don't know the right words.

Others were just songs that we all sang growin' up, when we'd get out the instruments and all sing together. Uncles, aunts, cousins, grandma, grandpa, neighbors and friends. A lot of 'em we got from church. Gospel concerts, fish fries and other things at church, you know, picnics, barbecues and all that.

Pentecostal churches always have good music. You can learn alot by goin' to a Pentecostal church. Jerry Lee Lewis, he came from a Pentecostal church. Elvis did, too. Aretha was a church girl. Otis Redding came from church, and Little Richard. Some of them's daddies was preachers. A lot more came from churches and that is where they learnt to play and sing and perform at.

Like with Marilyn, some of the songs she grew up with, she never heard the original. She just heard me an' my friends play 'em or heard them at church, and that's how she thought they was supposed to sound. Then later, she mighta heard one of them on a jukebox somewhere, and she'd say, "Uncle Doc, I heard 'I Believe To My Soul' on the jukebox today and it didn't sound right!"

I'd tell her that it sounded right for that take in the recording studio when that band recorded it; sounded right for them that time. the way we play it sounds right for us, at whatever time we sing it. She's old enough now that she gets it, but when she was 12 or 13, she just figured that our way was right and the other ways were wrong!

It's easier to play a song if you only play it the way you feel it whenever you play it. You're not tryin' to copy anybody, and you're free to holler it as you feel, and play it for as long as it takes for you to be done with it. That's how we do it, anyway.

Tondeleo: Doc has always enjoyed traveling - or rambling and roving. Sometimes he refers to it as being a hobo.  He says when the travel bug bites, he has to take off. When Marilyn was dropped off for him to raise, he had to cut back on his traveling to just a bit here and there, and for shirt little trips and time off.

Doc: "Yeah, I had to cut way back on my hobo ways when my brother's wife dropped her off here on her way to Tennessee with that piece of trash what she met at the carnival. Marilyn was about 10 or 11 and couldn't be left on her own, so it was up to me to be there for her and look out for her. Plus them socialist services was on my case all the time tryin' to catch me messin' up. I had to watch my p's and q's, which included not takin' off so much."

That seems to be a pretty common phenomenon among him and his friends. They can talk for hours about the various times they just "took off," to wander around the country for a spell. Some of them have spent years at a time hopping trains, and just going wherever the trains took them. To support themselves, they'd steal food or anything they thought they could get by with taking and then sell very cheaply. Doc won't talk much about what he calls the days of his darkness. Especially not with Marilyn around.

But he does talk about the urge to wander and roam. He talks about some of the good times, anyway. From what I could tell, the travel bug would bite whenever there was financial pressure, work pressure, family pressure or any other kind of pressure. When the pressure builds up too much for alcohol to wash it away, they would take off. They might just start walking. Just walk out the door with nothing but the clothes on their back, and keep on going.

Doc: You gotta go when you gotta go. It gets too much to be stayin' in one place and then that open road starts callin' and you gotta answer. I've hopped trains, hitch hiked, walked, took buses when I could do some work for a few dollars, and then one day you wake up an' you're ready to go back home an' see your friends an' family. Dependin' on where you are, it might take a couple weeks to make it back. Home seems better when you're far away and been gone awhile.

Once you been gone a while, you can remember all that's good about it and how the folks back home ain't that bad, and they mean well and how deep down in your heart you really do love them. Well, most of 'em.

I always take a guitar along. Usually my oldest Tele. That guitar's been a friend of mine for years an' years an' been on many 'ventures with me. I can count on being able to make a few dollars singing on the streets with that Tele and my battery powered amp, or play indoors with other people and pick up a few bucks.

Once people here you singin' and playin' and find out you're not a crazy person, you can get invited to their place to play at a party or barbecue or whatever. Mostly it's about playin' and  singin' the kind of stuff they want to hear, an' also about bein' friendly and not scary. A lot of homeless people scare people away as a way of protectin' themselves. I can take care of myself, and for me, bein' funny works most of the time.

I like going to churches and missions to play for 'em and share my testimony. Sometimes they give you a love offerin' and put you up for the night.The preacher might meet you for breakfast in the mornin' if you told your testimony well an' if the folks got touched or someone got saved. Oh yeah, I also take a Bible with me when I go ramblin'.

So I ask, "Doc, what is it that makes a man want to ramble, as you put it? How do you know when it's time to take off? What about the people in your life, like your family or boss or your friends?"

Doc: "Well, Tondy, it ain't somethin' you choose. A restless feelin' comes on you and won't leave. You start dreamin' about places far away an' wantin' to be there. Even if you don't leave, you're no good where you are. You're heart's not in it and your mind's not in it. You're better off just takin' off an' gettin' it outta your system."

Me: "But what about the people you leave behind? What about your boss?"

Doc: Well, when that bug hits you hard enough that you gotta roam, they all know it, and they are pretty ready for you to go. If you're poor, your job ain't much anyway. You get a little hard to deal with, and usually the boss man is about ready to let you go from the job. You ain't really hurtin' no one. I know, they cry a bit an' fuss, but they know that a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, and that you'll be back when you can. And then everybody's happy when you get back. Plus, you got new stories for them from faraway places."

You know what else, Tondy? If a man's gonna be poor, he ought to at least see some sights Y'all forget that poor folks can't go on vacations an' cruises an' all that. We work, we find some way to chill out, like drinkin' or smokin' weed for some, or playin' music - for some, it's drinkin', smokin' weed an' playin' music all at the same time - or goin' to church and gettin' on fire for the Lord.

That's one reason why a lot of our churches are more excitin' than the churches where richer people goes.
Church is all the excitement we got, if we ain't drinkin', druggin' or ramblin'. When I cut back on my ramblin', Marilyn and the people at her church got me goin' to church an' castin' my cares on the Lord. That's kept me calm and gave me a peace that passes understandin'.

People like you got money enough for vacations, travel and what not and you got money for them therapists and all that. We ain't got none of that. But like I said, I ain't done much ramblin' and wild cattin' since Marilyn came here. I had to stick around no matter how bad the itch got to take off. But nowadays, I can come and go as I please an' it keeps the pressure from buildin' up makin' me want to leave. Bein' with the Lord and His people has made all the difference in the world for me.

In my last post, I was attempting to get Doc and Marilyn and Big Dave to discuss the end of the world, the Mayan calendar and survival. You can read how far we didn‘t get in that attempt. This segment is from a few minutes later in that same conversation, such as it was. 

I was trying to explain to Doc, Marilyn and Big Dave how unsettling it will be, according to all the scare mongers, when the next disaster strikes. I didn’t get too far. 

Tondeleo: OK, Doc, I understand that you don’t want to buy the Mayan calendar. And, like I said, there really isn’t a Mayan calendar for you or anyone else to buy. It just was like a prediction or something… but the point is that there are a lot of people saying that people ought to be ready for a disaster or for a zombie invasion…

Doc: Aint no ZOMBIES gonna invade nobody, Tondy! Don’t get your panties in a bunch…

Marilyn: I ain’t scared of zombies, Tondy! I have anointing oil that I got at the church and I would pour it on them and rebuke them in the name of Jesus! A zombie ain’t nothin’ but a demon livin’ in a corpse. I’d cast that demon out of that zombie and command it go to back to hell and the zombie would just be a dead person again…

Doc: Yeah, one more thing for me to bury around here.

Tondeleo: Well, what about being’ PREPARED, Doc? I read you about the “37 Foods You Must Have in a Disaster.” What do you think about that?

Doc: Well, Tondy, it’s a scam pure an’ simple. There ain’t no secret foods. That guy ain’t got no special secrets. OK: you gotta have water. We got a well, so we’re ok. Then you need to have things you can store. But we live like that anyway. You been out here in the winter. When it snows, ain’t no snowplows comin’ down here. We can’t get to the store.

We have sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, carrots, turnips and such down in the root cellar. They keep as long as you need ‘em. Why it’s called a root cellar.

Then we got salt cured ham and deer jerky. We even got some catfish jerky that Big Dave makes. We’re good for meat. We do that every winter and been doin’ that since I was a boy.

Plus, we got guns and ammo and plenty of deer, rabbits, squirrels and possums. We got fresh meat year round – all we have to go is take a walk in the woods.

When we ain’t got no electricity, we play the acoustic guitars… and Marilyn don’t need no electric to play her harp.

We got blankets and a woodstove, and kerosene lamps. That ain’t no disaster Tondy! It’s how all us live out here! Poor people been livin’ like that since the world began!

And you city boys think it’s the end of the world if you cain’t get your Starbucks and the interweb! You better man up, Tondy!

Big Dave: Well, if it IS the end of the world, you’re not gonna make it anyway. You’ll be dead. The world ended, remember?

Marilyn: The Bible says all this stuff is gonna happen in the last days. Tondy, what you need is the Holy Ghost. Then you wouldn’t be scared all the time. Do you want me to cast that spirit of fear off of you? I can do it if you want…

Tondy: No thank you Marilyn. I’ll be all right. I have some freeze dried food and other supplies coming from Amazon. 

Tondeleo: I was going through some of my recordings of conversations with Doc Stevens, and ran across this one that I thought you would enjoy. 

It’s common for rural rednecks to misuse words because first of all, many of them are illiterate or at best, are poor readers who cannot spell well at all. Second, these are the same ones who don’t seem to listen all that well, so when you are talking, they may mishear you and substitute a word that you used for a word that they know.

Below is a classic situation like that where Doc talks about a friend of his who was going to get divorced.

Doc: My buddy Ralph an’ his ole lady been fightin’ and she was ‘cusing him of cheatin.’ Now he ain’t ever cheated on her ‘cause he’s too ugly but she don’t think so, an’ also she thinks that just ‘cause he plays guitar that all the women want him. But Ralph ain’t like that. He ain’t had that many girlfriends afore he met Shirl, an’ he ain’t had any since then, mostly cause he’s ‘fraid of her goin’ all buck wild on him if he ever did get one.

Then, if Ralph happens to go to church with her, she’s tryin’ to get him to go to the altar at the end of the service to repent of cheatin’ on her, when he ain’t even done it! An’ he ain’t gonna lie to the good Lord, just to get Shirl to shut up.

Shirl’s done told all the women in the church that Ralph got a rovin’ eye, and that made things worse, really. One of them prophesied that he was gonna leave Shirl an’ the kids, so now Shirl thinks it’s a done deal, unless the Lord works a miracle. 

Another problem what makes her like that is she picked up a lot of weight over the years so now she’s real o’beast. Ralph ain’t like o’beast women, he likes ‘em small, so Shirl’s real touchy ‘bout that.

Anyway, she been naggin’ Ralph so much he decided he wanted to get divorced. Shirl ain’t want no divorce so she was tellin’ him how the lawyers was gonna take everything he had, his tractor, his truck, his guns, his guitar, all of it. So Ralph got pretty scared. He don’t even have enough money for a lawyer.

She said it would take a year for them to get divorced anyway. So Ralph was scared, an’ didn’t want to wait  year. He asked her if they was any other way, and she said, yeah, they could go see a marriage canceller.

She told him a canceller was cheaper and would only be about six months and wouldn’t take his truck and guns and guitar. But Ralph would have to pay outta pocket. He took a couple of his guns over to the pawn shop at White Plains, an’ got enough cash to see the canceller a couple times.

Anyway, Tondy, they went to see the canceller. Ralph told him how he ain’t really want to lose everything, an’ all he wanted was out.

The canceller acted like he wasn’t that interested in cancelling their marriage! Ralph said he told Ralph to quit makin’ hog noises whenever Shirl was goin’ for the last piece of pie, and to quit callin’ her Hoss an’ Tubby O’Lard, an’ names like that.

He told' Ralph that him and Shirl needed to come back once a week for six months. So Ralph asked if at the end of it the marriage would be cancelled, an’ the canceller said that he hoped at the end of six months, they’d be happily married!

Tondy, if that marriage cancellin’ aint a racket, I don’t know what is, do you? I told Ralph he might as well just quit seein’ the canceller an’ ignore all them mean things Shirl been sayin’ to him. Don’t ever waste your money on marriage cancellin’ cause it don’t work.

By Tondeleo Lee Thomas

It’s been a few months since I’ve updated Doc’s blog. I have been busy with work and stuck in London. I am trying to catch up on his blog over the Summer.

I have been so bogged down with work that all I could do was post some vids that were sent to me of them on Youtube, but I’ve had no time for comments or blogging.

Last week I came to the States and have been catching up with Doc and Marilyn and their friends.

When I pulled up into their driveway, Marilyn came running out of the house to give me a hug and to tell me all the things that have happened since I had seen them last.

I pulled my digital recorder out of my pocket to make certain I could capture it all.

Marilyn: Tondy! Me and Doc got a band now! We ain’t mostly playin on the streets so much and we got more inside bookins. And we got real cards, too! And we been playin’ more gospel shows which I like better and things is goin good, Tondy!

Doc: Hey, Tondy – I thought you’d dropped of the face of the earth, been so long. Figured old England had swallowed you up.

Yeah, we got a band. Well, it ain’t really a band, it’s just a bunch of people we play music with, but it’s like a band. It’s a bunch of guys I been knowin’ but we started playin’ together here an’ there an’ people like it so we keep doin’ it.

Here’s who we got. We BEEN havin’ Thurman Goodlett as our man dancer an’ he still is with us. But now we got Homer and Wendell Green from Detroit, what is also called Motown. They come down here lookin’ for work an’ money ‘cause Detroit is broke.

Wendell got a deep voice and sings back up bass and some solo stuff. He come here first and got a job and a place to live and is a real hard worker.

Homer’s his little brother. He plays piano best you ever heard in your life. I ain’t never heard nobody no better. There weren’t no money to be made in Detroit unless you already got big money behind you so Homer come down here to see what he can do. He plays with us, and plays on his own and gives piano lessons, so he’s keepin’ his head above water.

Then we got Welch Simmons from Durham, North Carolina on the drums. He is a good man what also come up here lookin’ for work. They ain’t no work down there. But he got him a job up here and a place for him and his family so he’s doin’ all right. He is a real good drummer and keeps the rhythm right and tight like they say.

It’s a lot better with the piano and drums, Tondy. It frees me up a bit to not have to carry everything. You know, like when it’s just me an’ Marilyn, I’m playin’ the guitar, and also the bass with the two bass strings on the guitar, plus keepin’ the beat with the foot box with the tambourine what’s screwed to it. Now, I can put more into the singin’ and not be tryin’ to keep track of what I’m doin’ all the time.

Me an’ Marilyn still plays by ourselves a lot, but we got the band for places that want a bigger sound. All the guys is good guys what is livin’ right and trustin’ the Lord an’ tryin’ to do the right thing.

It ain’t like the old days when I used to play with guys what would be drunk and high an’ you ain’t knowin’ what they gonna do next. Nope, these guys is straight arrows an’ that makes it better. No cussin’ and fightin’ or anything like that. These is church goin’ guys, when they can make it. It’s a lot better, Tondy, for real. Wait til you meet ‘em. They’s good people. Holy Ghost people. So it’s all good.

Tondeleo: I can truly tell the difference in Doc and Marilyn over these past few years. Marilyn has definitely grown up into a woman and Doc is more mellow and civilised, at least to an extent. They’ve cleaned up their bungalow a lot, inside as well as outside. Some of the junk cars are gone now, and his shop/garage is a bit more orderly. It is interesting for me to notice people still growing and changing as they make better choices and different friends, and are offered better opportunities. I have witnessed them going from living in total poverty and playing music on the street corners to now having some semblance of a stable, albeit still very simple life. It is interesting to watch people grow in who they are and find better lives.

But, having said all that, Doc is still pretty scrappy and rough around the edges, and Marilyn is still giggly and funny – but there is a more civilised side that is developing in both of them.

Below is a video clip from one of their Gospel gigs: The third song on here is one of the many that Doc has written.

 

Tondeleo: I am not a hunter. I am an eater, but not a hunter. I don’t want to know where my food comes from or how it died. I don’t want to think about whether or not it was frightened when it died. I simply like to eat it.

Doc and Big Dave were telling hunting stories back in November and this one stood out to me:

When Doc and Big Dave go hunting, Marilyn makes each of them a sandwich and a thermos full of gravy to take into the woods with them to quench their thirst and to keep them warm.

I asked about why they didn’t take tea or coffee, and they both looked at me as like I was daft.

Big Dave said, “It makes you have to water the lemon tree too much.”

I said I didn’t see where that would be a problem, out on the woods.

Doc said that when you’re crammed up into a deer stand, you don’t want to be climbing up and down from it to go water the bushes – and it would scare the deer away. Soup or stew is better in the thermos than coffee or tea.

Big Dave said that a man wouldn’t drink hot tea, anyway.

Apparently Marilyn USED to make soup or stew for their thermoses. One day when they were hunting with Thurman Goodlett, he was drinking stew out of his thermos and got choked on a piece of meat.

It was only Doc, Big Dave and Thurman out there in the woods, and neither Doc not Big Dave were willing to do the “Hind Lick maneuver” to save Thurman. Doc decided that this was definitely the time to call on the Good Lord to save Thurman, if God didn’t rather have him in Heaven just yet. Big Dave agreed.

Doc and Big Dave laid their hands on Thurman and called out to the Lord to save him if He would. Doc said he even spoke in tongues just in case that would give their prayers a boost.

Fortunately, Thurman was so scared – or touched by the Lord -  that he was able to swallow the meat with little or no damage to his throat. Doc said he was real sure it was the Lord that saved Thurman. Thurman’s eyes had rolled back into his head and his face was getting blue. But then, suddenly there was a gulping sound, and Thurman was swallowing and breathing. “Had to be the Lord,” said Doc. “I was speakin’ in tongues out there.”

Since that day, Marilyn doesn’t put soup in their thermoses. Instead she fills them with red eye gravy so they can be warm and comfortable when they are out in the deer stand.

Of course, I don’t know what red eye gravy is, so Marilyn explains that it is made from meat drippings and a cup or two of coffee, some salt and flour until it is just thick enough to be like drinking hot warm silk.

I am not certain that it is better for a person than stew is, but Doc and Dave are settled on “no more stew or soup” when they go hunting.

Big Dave said, “I don’t care WHO it is what’s choking. I am not doing the hind lick maneuver.

Doc: Me, neither. I’ll pray for ‘em and ask the Lord to save ‘em. Or, He can call ‘em home. I ain’t doin’ none of that other stuff. I ain’t no doctor.

Tondeleo: This is a continuation on Doc and Big Dave talking about how they do NOT play bluegrass, and that not all rural Americans even LIKE bluegrass.

Doc: Tondy, like we been sayin’, not all mountain people plays bluegrass or even likes it as much as city people does.

Some of the places we play at when we was growin’ up and where we plays now when we go back down home, don’t allow no bluegrass, no country western and no electric guitars. Some songs ain’t got no instruments. Just sung. Some of the work songs and the sad songs is just sung straight from the heart. I do that sometimes.

This ain’t music for sellin.’ It’s gospel spirituals, work songs, coal minin’ songs and such. But up here, we play more songs what people want to hear. And we ain’t about goin’ out an’ showin’ our shame.

Big Dave: Yeah, we play what we got to play here, and we still draw the line ourselves on what we play. Old country, blues roots, Gospel and things like that. But we don’t do no new country western or bluegrass. Of course, we ain’t no GOOD at bluegrass! We don’t play it! (laughs)

Me and Doc, we like electric guitars and our friends do, because we like to be able to play loud and we like the tone that you get on a tube amp. We like a little distortion, but even that is the music we grew up playin’ with our friends and neighbors. You can play a acoustic guitar into a mike like they do at a lot of the festivals and places we play, but it just sounds like a louder acoustic guitar, which is what they want.

Doc: We like overdrive, Tondy! But we also grew up with fiddles, and I like fiddles if played right, and banjo’s and such. I like a mandolin ok. A banjo with bad tone don’t set well with me. If a banjo aint played right, it sounds like a bunch of bees stingin’ me in the ears.

But a lot of folks down home and in a lot of places ain’t got no electric, so they gotta play music without it. I take my ‘coustic guitar and dobro when I go down there, unless I know I’m goin’ where there is ‘lectric.

Marilyn: I like playin’ harp. That runs in our family for back to my great grand dad and Doc thinks my great great grand dad. I like a dulcimer, too. Doc has one that he strung with guitar strings and plays with a bottleneck slide sometimes.

Another thing what runs deep is dancin.’ My aunt does flatfoot and cloggin’ but I can’t do none of that. I can yodel, and always could, but she cain’t yodel!!! Uncle Doc can yodel, but he don’t do it too much. 

Doc: A lot of the mountain roots music and blues roots is about the same thing. Bein’ broke. Havin’ a mean boss or bad landlord what don’t understand. Bein’ sick. Bein’ cheated on. Your loved one dyin’. Some is about just bein’ sick of this earthly life and wantin’ to just go ahead and go to Heaven. All the songs is about the basic thing about bein’ human and what goes on in your heart in hard times.

A lot of the sound comes from church where it gets blended, black and white folks, singin’ the same songs, and we pick up a little bit from each other, but we don’t copy no one. Most of us, at least my people is Pentecostal, too. Pentecostal folks whether white or black usually got a heart for music and have a bunch of good musicians and singers.

Tondeleo: Isn’t any music that’s made with banjo’s and mandolins by definition, “bluegrass?”

Big Dave: No. There’s differences. Bluegrass is more modern, like for city people that maybe came from the country and were missing home, and bluegrass was a way to sell that sound. I don’t know. I like Dawg Music, which has then same instruments, but isn’t bluegrass and ain’t quite country. David Grisman does it.

Doc: Well, as I see it, mountain music, roots music is more about bein’ music to dance to, more about a steady beat. That’s what we do in everything we do, keep a good beat. Mountain music uses more open tunings, which blues roots does, too. Both uses Open G a lot.

I grew up listenin’ on the radio and on the records when Daddy  could get them, and sometimes live to the Carter Family, the Mainer's, the Stoneman's, the Delmore's and the Blue Sky Boys,the Carter Brothers and folks like them.

I spent some time with Donna Stoneman and know her to be a good Christian and nice person. Her sister Ronnie was on Hee Haw. But all them people ain’t bluegrass. Mountain music and roots, I call it. We like that ok, heck we grew up on it. But we also needed to get away from it when we got out of there and done some travellin’ and didn’t want to be hillbillies.

Big Dave. He’s right, Tondy.

Marilyn: We live in the country and we ain’t got much money, but we ain’t hillbillies.

Tondeleo: Now that I am back at home for the next few months, I will be posting random talks with Doc and Marilyn and their friends, from the digital recordings I made of them. Some of these are more than a year old.

One thing that strikes me about rural Americans is their connection with religion, even if they are not that pious in their personal lifestyles. Doc and Marilyn seem to pretty much live out their beliefs, even though they are not what one would normally think of as the religious type.

Some of their friends are very "rough and ready" but when it comes to "the things of the Lord," they seem to have some respect for spirituality. A man might be out in a bar every Friday and Saturday night, and even get into fights. But, on Sunday it is likely that he could be in church. If one brings up "the Lord," he will suddenly have some level of respect and reverence.

I asked Doc about this, and how it is that he learns about religion.

Doc: I got one of them toilet books. Marilyn brung it home from church. You set it on the back of your toilet and when you're sittin' on the toilet, you read the page for that day and learn about the Lord and then pray the prayer at the bottom. Sometimes I'm in there long enough to read two or three days worth. It ain't that hard to learn about the Lord, if you got your mind to it.

I ain't too big on prayin' when I'm on the toilet 'cause it ain't respectful to the Lord. But I read about Him there. After I'm done my business, and got my britches back up, that's when I talk to him mostly.

You can talk to God anywhere, Tondy. If I aint got nothing to tell him, I tell him that I am glad I ain't sick, or aint homeless. Glad I got people what loves me and what I love. And I hank him for that.

I ask him what to do. Then I set about doing it. If I get stuck when workin' on a car, I ask him how to fix it an' he usually tells me what to try next and' it works.

Tondeleo: So how does God talk to you, Doc? Is it in a voice like me talking to you, or is it just in your head or what?

Doc: God don't talk to your head, Tondy. He talks to your heart. People what only lives in their heads and brains get anti God after a while. They lose touch with their hearts. Lose they selves. An' they are some of the most miserable people you will ever meet.

But people what lives from their heart is happier. I'm happier. I been both sides of that street. It is better for a man to walk with his God.

Me, I had a lot of bad things happen when I was growin' up. A lot of drinkin' fightin' Daddy dyin', an' some things what is left unsaid. You mighta had bad 'speriences and But God didn't put you here to stay where you was. He put you here to get to where you are goin'.

I figure it like this. He loved me enough to give me life in the first place, even if it's a hard one. All he asks you to do now is love him and help other people the best you can. And do what he says in the good book. If you do that he will look out for you and your people and will bless you and the works of your hands. The preacher told me that one. It's not a bad deal, in my mind.

This is just a short post. I've been dreadfully busy and have not had the time to transcribe any of my recordings from being with Doc and Marilyn, so I am just posting this short one in order to not look like I have quit posting.

Like a lot of rural Americans, Doc and Marilyn pray before they eat. I've learnt when I am eating with rural Americans not to just begin eating when I sit down at the table. I wait of course until my host or hostess is seated and then I wait for them to either take the first bite, or bow their heads to "bless the food."

"Blessing the food" generally consists of everyone at the table bowing their head and closing their eyes while one of them will offer a prayer of thanks for the food, and asking the Lord to not let any of them get sick from eating it. Well, they don't actually SAY that, but it is inherent in the nature of the prayer. Generally these prayers are mildly poetic or prosaic.

Some of them that I have heard include:

"Thank you Lord for these here vittles. Help us to receive strength and help from them. Amen."

Others get more religious:

"Thank you, Oh Lord for this food we are about to receive. Bless it for our bodies and and bless us for your service. Amen."

Then, there is the American classic, which many American children are taught, and some adults still say with folded hands and closed eyes:

"God is great, God is good, and we thank Him for our food. Amen."

After praying over the food, then it is ok to "dig in" and resume a free for all at the table.

Earlier this Summer, I was at Doc and Marilyn's for the evening meal. Marilyn had heated up several little plastic containers that had originally contained margarine, or Cool Whip (an American non dairy substitute for whipped cream). Rural Americans save these throwaway containers, and use them to store leftovers, small car parts, or eat from them as cereal bowls or soup bowls.

As Marilyn sat down, I bowed my head, waiting for her or Doc to pray. Doc picked up his fork and began to eat right out of a container of kale.

Marilyn immediately began fussing at him and rebuking him for eating unblessed food.

Doc jammed the food over into one of his cheeks and stuffed some leftover ham slices into his mouth, ignoring her the best he could.

Marilyn felt that he was truly tempting the Lord by doing this and asked what had possessed him to be eating without blessing his food.

Doc looked at me, rolled his eyes and exhaled. Then he said in an exasperated voice, "Marilyn, this is the third time we've had this here food. If the Lord ain't blessed it by NOW, He ain't GOING to."

And he kept on eating.

Tondeleo: In the last posting, Doc was talking about religion among poor people in the US, particularly about Pentecostalism. Growing up poor, he has some particularly interesting insights into some of the Pentecostal sects that proliferate in America, and as I research it, apparently around the world.

Doc: OK, Tondy, so we was talkin' about churches. Like I said, I ain't been to many of them uptown type churches like 'Piscopal [Anglican] and Lutherns and such. Been to some Baptist, but mostly I always went back to Pentecostal. If I'm gonna go to a church, I want one where I know I'll be able to feel the Lord. I ain't goin' if he ain't there. You can usually feel the Lord in a Pentecostal church.

Tondeleo: And why is that, Doc?

Doc: Well, Pentecostal churches is more lively and upbeat and happy. When a man is broke, beat down and feelin' low, he needs a lift. And he needs a lift that ain't gonna cost him money he aint got, and if he is tryin' to stay sober an' maybe make a new start, that ain't leave much. Plus, if he goes back to bars and drinkin', he's gonna end up in the same old mess, with fightin' and bein' arrested.

Church can be a good place to go, if it's lively enough. If the music is good, and the people are happy and the preacher is excited about what he's talkin' about and if the Holy Ghost is movin'.

Tondeleo: What do you mean by 'the Holy Ghost is moving?' How does he "move?" Where does he move to? How do you know if he is, what you call, "moving?"

Doc: He ain't move like in wigglin' or movin' from one place or another. It means if he is movin' on the people. Durin' the singin' he might start movin' and people'll start dancin' on their own, without thinkin' about it. They might commence to shoutin' or speakin' in tongues, or fallin' out. It gives you somethin' to look at, while you're listenin' to the music an' singin' along.

Tondelo: You'll have to explain some of those words, Doc. Speaking in tongues. Falling out. Most people won't know what that means...

Doc: Who can explain speakin' in tongues? I cain't. But suppose you felt so good you ain't had no words that could tell about it... but you HAD to say somethin', or you'd bust wide open? If you felt God so real all over your body. The words what come out of your mouth might not sound like English, they might not sound like no language on this earth, but you'd be speakin' what you was feelin' 'cause what you is feelin' ain't like nothin' on this earth. That's how I'd 'splain it.

Fallin' out's the same way. you might feel so happy it just overloads your circuits. You ever kiss a girl an' feel lightheaded, Tondy? Girls call it swoonin'. They feel in love an' like they is high on love. It's sorta like that. You might feel God all over you and feel so in love with God and life and other people and the whole world that you get lightheaded and fall out. I done it once. It ain't felt like nothin' on this earth. I was standin' there quiet, and felt the Holy Ghost movin' on me, an' I got lightheaded and kinda high feelin' an' next thing I know, I was lookin' up at people, who was kneelin' aroun' me an' praisin' the Lord. Ain't nothin' wrong with doin' that. You ever done that, Tondy?

Tondeleo: I can't say that I have, no. But I can see where there might be an appeal for someone who needed a lift and to feel significant, especially if he or she was disappointed in life, or felt that no one cares about them. To feel that God himself is touching you would be very affirming, I suppose.

Doc: What? Do you know how much of a sissy you sounded like right then? [Now Doc mimics me, with a horrid attempt at an English accent, in a John Cleese-like falsetto voice, while flopping his wrists around like two fish out of water - Tondeleo] "OOOhhh... I SUPPOSE it could be INFIRMING to a POOR PERSON who needs to FEEL MAGNIFICENT..." Tondy, ain't nobody too good for the Lord to touch them. Even not you.

I'm gonna find a revival and take you to it next time you is here an' there is one goin' on. It don't cost a dime, an' you won't wake up with a hangover the next mornin' . You gonna come an' sit there with me and find out what you been missin'. It ain't about bein' religious. It's about the Lord. Everybody needs the Lord, Tondy. I do. You do. Ain't nobody who don't.

Tondeleo: One thing that I notice about Doc and his friends, as well as other rural poor people in the US is that many of them have a deep sense of religion that I don't find in the UK. It seems to be in their blood, even if it is not readily apparent by their day to day behaviour.

Doc was talking about being in South Carolina, and how he ended up for a while staying in a Christian Mission. In the UK, we have dosshouses, or what are called Homeless Shelters in the US, but we do not have as many Christian based ones as the US does. Also, in the US, it seems like the poorer the neighbourhood, the more tattoo parlours, bowling allies and Pentecostal missions there are. It is especially true in the cities.

Pentecostalism in America is readily available, as it has gotten to be in the UK. I have noticed that in Africa and India, Pentecostalism is also quite common, even though the majority of the population may be clueless as to its existence and its substance.

I presented Doc with some questions about Pentecostalism and its predominance among particularly the poor in America, and here are some of his answers, the best I could understand them.

Doc: What is Pentecostalism? I ain't really know that one, Tondy. I ain't too big on the "ism's." Now, I been to some Pentecostal churches and have stayed in Pentecostal missions. Stayed in one in Orangeburg, matter of fact. Pentecostals is the ones what has more heart than most the other ones. Pentecostals care about poor folks an' they ain't care if you done time or been in trouble. They ain't so uppity.

Tondeleo: So, Doc, how would I recognise a Pentecostal person?

Doc: They aint nothin' to recognise, Tondy! They just look regular like me. You know Slick Ballinger [a talented young Blues guitarist and singer from North Carolina that Doc introduced me to two years ago - Tondeleo], he's a Pentecostal. Goes to a Oneness church. Apostolic. And also, Big Dave, he's a Pentecostal, too, I think. I heard him speak in tongues a long time ago, an' I guess he still does.

Pentecostals look like anyone else. But if you went to church with one, you'd see the difference and you'd hear the difference. Like in a regular church, the singin' is quiet, an' boring. In a Pentecostal church, they sing with all they's hearts! They is singin' to God Hisself and they ain't 'shamed to sing to Him. I tell you, ten Pentecostals'll sing louder than a hundred regular church folks. An' they'd enjoy it more, too.

You clap your hands and stomp your feet to the music. You can dance in a Pentecostal church, too. But not with women. No couples dancin'.

The music's better. Pentecostals put more feelin' in they's playin'. A Pentecostal piano player'll play like Jerry Lee Lewis or Leon Russell or Pinetop Perkins or Katie Webster. Jerry Lee Lewis was brought up Pentecostal. But he backslid. Pentecostals usually aint had no trainin' in music or preachin' an' they cain't read a note of music. They ain't like one of them high falutin' churches what plays by music notes an' sounds like a funeral march.

You clap your hands and stomp your feet to the music. You can dance in a Pentecostal church, too. But not with women. No couples dancin'. You dance by yourself. I done it plenty of times. An' they don't get mad at you for it, if you're dancing for the Lord.

But you ain't s'posed to get in the flesh and be shakin' your rear end or doin' no Michael Jackson moves. That ain't right to do in the house of the Lord. You're s'posed to dance in the spirit, not in the flesh. Matter of fact, dancin' for the Lord is the only dancin' what Pentecostals do. They ain't go to worldly dances.

Tondeleo: You're saying that the music is different, more lively in a Pentecostal church, and that the people can dance to it. Doesn't that seem sacrilegious to you?

Doc: Naw! It ain't sack religious. King David danced for the Lord and I know in the Bible it says somewhere to praise the Lord with dance. I heard a lot of Pentecostal preachers say that one, when some folks was dancin' an' other folks was sittin' there all sour faced an' not praisin' the Lord.

That's another thing, Tondy. The preachin' is different in Pentecostal churches. In a regular church, the preacher is usually a soft talkin' sissy whose afraid to hurt anyone's feelin's. He gets up there an' tickles their ears with a bunch of stuff about love and how God is too good to send anyone to hell and all that. He ain't wantin' no one to ever feel bad, ever.

But a Pentecostal preacher ain't like that! No Sir. First, they ain't usually sissies. Lots of 'em grew up poor. Most of them done some pretty wild livin' in their day before they was preachers. They been there and done that. They can tell you about their days of drinkin', druggin', skirt chasin' and all that. But then they got saved and God called them to preach and most of 'em started right then and there when God called 'em and they let the Holy Ghost teach 'em how to preach.

Some of 'em went to Bible college to get some trainin' and teachin' but it don't make 'em into better preachers. It just gives 'em some book learnin'.

A Pentecostal preacher'll step on your toes, too, Tondy. He'll call a spade a spade an' he don't mince no words. If you're doin' wrong, the Holy Ghost'll tell him and he'll say it right there into the microphone! He ain't scared of nothin' or no one but God. He'll preach and run around, an' unbutton his shirt a little and loosen up his tie when the Holy Ghost comes upon him, and he'll mop his brow with his hanky! He'll jump and shout a little bit, and get the people goin' at it, too! There ain't no sleepin' at a Pentecostal church!

Then, at the end, he'll quiet it on down an' ask you about if you're saved or not. He'll tell you that if you're not, you'll die and go to a devil's hell. But if you'll come to Jesus, you'll be forgiven and get to go to Heaven to be with Jesus, the Angels and all your dead relatives what loved the Lord. It makes you want to go up front. I done it plenty of times, Tondy. Gone up front to get forgiven and to get help from the Lord.

Sometimes other folks'll come up to the altar an' lay hands on you an cry and pray with you. They pray loud, too. Like God is right here in the church, but He might be a little hard of hearing. They'll hug you afterwards and tell you that they felt the Holy Ghost moving on you when they was prayin'. You feel all clean and sorta lightheaded, too. I like Pentecostal churches, I do.

A person might have the devil leave him, and he might get to jumpin' an' shoutin' and cryin' and speakin' in tongues and all the people around'll be clappin' and praisin the Lord too. They ain't nothin' like it Tondy. But don't go if you got a migraine cause they get pretty loud.

One preacher said that earth is the quietest place in the universe! He said in hell they is all shoutin' and cryin' out in pain and in Heaven everyone is shoutin' and praisin the Lord!

Here's something else I like about Pentecostal churches. They ain't like either all white or all black. They usually is mixed. Like I met Ronnie [Perkins] at a Pentecostal church up to Sumter [SC]. I wouldn't have met him in a regular church especially down South Carolina where they is still racist. Down there, pretty much unless they is Pentecostal, the whites ain't gonna worship with black folks. Only the Holy Ghost can overcome racism. It ain't in the heart of man.

What boogie-woogie is to music, Pentecostal is to religion.

OK an' one more thing. Pentecostals'll help you when you is down an' out an' they will pray for you to be delivered if you get into drugs or alcohol or illicit lifestyles. They got love and they cares about people an' they also got more power of the Holy Ghost than regular church folks.

Tondeleo: To summarise, then, Pentecostal churches are more lively, have more demonstrative preaching, and are more emotional, caring and more interactive than the regular churches?

Doc: I don't know all them words, but I would put it like this: What boogie-woogie is to music, Pentecostal is to religion. Period.

I like talkin' about church an' revivals, Tondy. It makes me feel good, as long as you ain't makin' a mockery of it. Then I would be through talkin.'