The South is a Land of Spoken Word.
Our friend Marty called a while back to invite us to perform at a salon in a lovely old house on the outskirts of town on a Sunday afternoon.
What do you want us to play I said.
Well, your regular old time music will be lovely, she said, but there’ll be a woman reciting poetry and a fellow playing a classical piano piece,so in addition to playing perhaps you could do some spoken word.
Sure I said. No problem. After we rang off the phone I looked at Nancy.
Spoken word Nancy said.
Yes, that’s right. Spoken word.
What is it, she said.
I don’t know, I said.
Really, she said. You certainly acted like you knew what it was when Marty asked if we could do some. Sure! No problem! Spoken word you said.
That’s because I figured you knew what it was.
What?
I thought you’d know what it was.
Why?
Because you know things like that.