My 15 minutes of fame

The Walnut Valley Festival opened officially this morning when Roz Brown and Bill Barwick stepped onto Stage III.

This weekend, the grandstands will be full, the funnel cake cookers will be bubbling and old Winfield T-shirts will be on every back. For two weeks, however, the center of attention has been on regular Joe and regular Jane musicians, playing together in the dense campgrounds.

In those camps - many of which pop up with the same names in about the same places year after year - traditions abound. And no camp has more traditions, or more fun, than the River Rats in the west end of the Pecan Grove. They create games, hold costume contests, lead parades, pass out buttons and talk to everyone. The latest addition to their "rat-itoire" was Wednesday's Band Scramble.

The prize, a special button and a set on Stage V, may have lured some of the nearly 60 people who signed up. Most of us, though, were just really curious what it would be like to perform with a band we had just met - in front of an audience.

I thought about playing guitar or bass guitar, but I decided to go with my strongest instrument. I signed up in the "Other" category as an autoharp player.

Coming up with a name was the most awkward moment for the four of us joined by the luck of the draw. (Our banjo player, Bob, never showed.) We stood in a huddle, looking at one another, no one wanting to step on any sandal-clad toes. Finally, Guinn Walker suggested "Stella Yellers," a reference to the Pecan Grove dwellers who cry "Stella!" into the night air at random and disturbing moments. We all chuckled and headed for Guinn's camp to rehearse.

Some of the scramblers ended up in groups that were truly disparate - wildly different ages, instruments and styles. The four of us were closer than that. We were probably within 15 years of one another's ages. None of us played very traditional music, and all of us were both singers and songwriters.

Guinn and Dee Dunlap knew one another already, which was a good start. Guinn's a singer-songwriter from Wichita with a shaved head and an easygoing manner. He loves to play host. He must have handed out a dozen beers to people dropping by the campsite while we rehearsed, though he doesn't drink much himself. Dee, an elfin brunette, is a member of the Wichita band Good Question. She has been coming to the festival for 15 years.

Joining us was Dwight Long, a guitar player from southeastern Oklahoma who grew up in Mulvane. Years ago, Long spent five years touring with a contemporary Christian band, but then he did not play guitar for a long time. "I'm hoping that I can get back into playing and writing music," Dwight told us.

We established the criteria for our performance quickly. Two songs. Three chords.

One of Guinn's songs, a quirky folk tune with a sing-along chorus, was an immediate pick. Every time we went through it, we added a new touch. The harmony lines got stronger. There were a couple of odd changes that I don't think we ever got, but the song quickly started sounding presentable.

My moment of panic was when Dwight told me as we practiced that they were going to key off my autoharp's rhythm. I'm rhythmically impaired, so asking me to set a beat is like asking a doctor to write legibly. I should be able to do it, but it never comes out right. I always thought that getting a music degree would help, but it didn't much.

I shouldered the responsibility, but I was relieved when Dee decided to play bass. That meant the beat was her job.

We talked for a while about being insecure - both in the Stella Yellers and in campground jams. "It's real intimidating at first," Dee said.

Guinn said only peer pressure made him sign up for the scramble. "I kind of had to work up to it," he said. "I mean, I don't think I can play with anyone else."

Both of them said they believe in campground hospitality, though.

"My first assumption is always be nice and take it easy on the new guy," Guinn said. "You want them to stay."

We talked, too, about the exhilaration of being part of a jam when things are clicking. It's scary to join, but playing with a group is beyond fun. It's addictive.

Our second song was one of Dee's originals, which she had never played on stage. It was a funny tune about looking for love in bathroom graffiti. Dee didn't feel comfortable singing new lyrics and playing rhythm.

I took a deep breath and volunteered to play bass.

On stage, I missed a chord change, and my hands felt clammy on the borrowed bass. Dwight and I glanced at each other. He looked a little uneasy, but we both grinned. It came together, and the crowd laughed at Dee's words.

The second song was better, and I found some nice autoharp voicings. Guinn forgot his last verse, but he covered nicely, and the last chorus was strong.

We didn't win any prizes, but the applause was warm. I'm sure Guinn and Dee will get a number of requests for their songs around campfires this weekend.

Shaking hands, Dwight and I said we hoped the Rats would sponsor another scramble next year.

I think I'll enter on bass.