Wednesday, August 8, 2012

A Banjo Museum. No, really, there is one.

If at any point during my life - prior to January 26th, 2012 - someone had told me I would not only attend but enjoy and even willingly pay the admission fee two of my reluctant pals, to The American Banjo Museum I would have kicked them in the shins. Not because I hate banjos but because anyone that knows me knows that I never ever treat. Amazingly, it was true. I paid because SugarDust and Downtown were not yet convinced - even after seeing the lobby filled with Rotating Golden Banjos and being told that there was over Nineteen Million Dollars worth of banjos in the collection - that this would be the greatest ever visit to a museum focusing solely on banjos. I pried my wallet open and plopped down the eighteen dollars. And then the magic began.

Speaking of magic, there is a sad connection to people that have dedicated their lives to the banjo and those that have dedicated their lives to magic. The main connection is, by the looks of it, they all spent a lot of time as virgins (David Copperfield's rape island aside). The second connections is a deep seated love of sequined vests. The combination of the two creates a kind of chicken or the egg scenario. What came first the late adult virginity or the sequined vest? I'm betting on the vest but you never can tell. Their virginity could be because of their hideous faces and the sequined vests are an attempt at a distraction. No, that couldn't be it. Nothing could distract you from those horse toothed faces not even a disco ball swinging from their necks.

This could be a good explanation for why every banjo was slightly more gaudy than the other until finally culminating in a banjo made of solid gold and strung with unicorn hair. Okay, all kidding aside, these banjos were fuckin spectacular. Hand crafted, covered in semi-precious and probably mostly just glass jewelry, often depicting what would now probably be considered borderline racist images of Native Americans. Many of these white-people-only musical instruments were valued over twenty thousand dollars. How they determine these values and if anyone had ever actually paid or offered to pay that much for one of them was not documented. But, again, without any sarcasm, this was a pretty impressive collection of handmade Americana. So much so that at times the wise ass side of me was absolutely without sarcastic remarks. I was genuinely blown away by the intricate work that must have gone in to creating these chintzy instruments.

I should mention here that I love (LUUUVVVV) old time country western music and bluegrass. Love it. Listen to it all the time. Greatly enjoy the banjo that so often accompanies the steel guitar, mandolin and fiddle. However, banjo solos, dueling banjos, extended banjo riffs, this is the reason so many banjo players have died at their own hands mid-concert. The madness that comes with extended exposure to said music.

Okay, that probably isn't true. If banjo players were off-ing themselves in front of concert goers we'd likely would have heard about it.

Seriously, if you are ever in Oklahoma City and have an hour or so to kill you should check this place out. If for no other reason than to find out that, incredibly, Shakey's Pizza used to be a wildly popular chain that featured live banjo music. They made no mention on if their pizza was any better than the cardboard and ketchup they serve now. Also to see just what nineteen million dollars worth of banjos look like. Or, you could just copy and paste the photo below. It would make you a liar but at least you'd still have your six bucks. Speaking of which, SugarDust and Downtown never paid me back. Cheap Bastards.

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