Boots n' Shorts

. . . it was a cold night in central new york, the snow was deep and the truck got stuck. we saw many wild nights at the farm; wild turkey, homebrew, baked ziti, and the last fifty-fifty was a little bit lean. we had gone our separate ways since then, but red garvin and the soggy bottom bandit remained and would soon meet grabford, who came from a long line of musicians, and was born with banjo picks on his right hand, which was great for picking, but a little too good for bad itches. then one day we heard a knock on the door & opened it just in time to see a nun peeling away on a harley. we looked down at our feet & saw our bundle of joy, swaddled in blankets and sporting a wicked fiddle. she would be named liza jane, & brought peace and prosperity to the land of wachusett. but the four still felt like something was missing, like they were falling apart at the seams. garvin went to the local hardware store and searched for a remedy but just couldn't figure out how to get everyone back together. suddenly a clerk walked up to red and asked if he needed any help. red turned around and saw a short bearded man who's name tag read elmer. elmer told red he could bond anything together so red threw him in the car and brought to five the number of they who krenzle the ferndocks. today the gang whole heartedly keeps the old tradition alive in their music. we're all gettin older but the groove's still new! recent sightings place them at the old city hall, oswego, NY; local benefits; or wherever hard times call for music with old roots and great grooves. from ten cent wings to fifty cent drafts everything sounds better with a little bluegrass.