Thea Austen: I'm Theodosia Austen, the Public Events Coordinator for the American Folklife Center. And on behalf of the entire staff, I want to welcome you to our latest Homegrown Concert. Homegrown is a series of performances featuring the very best in traditional music and dance. And we work collaboratively with the Millennium Stage at the Kennedy Center to put these concerts on. These folks will be performing again tonight at 6:00 at the Kennedy Center Millennium Stage. We also work with many talented and dedicated folk arts coordinators across the country. They help us to identify and bring to D.C. the most important and representative traditions from across the country. And today we're presenting you an unusual string band that plays a repertoire of Mormon traditional music in Utah. The group is The Beehive Band, as you know. As with all of our Homegrown Concerts, the performances are recorded for the permanent collections of the American Folklife Center's archive. That way, future generations can enjoy this concert, as well as yourselves. And it will be up on the Web, so you'll be able to see this concert later as well by clicking on our Web streaming broadcast of it. This concert is really an open recording session in the tradition of the kinds of recordings that Alan Lomax did with Jelly Roll Morton and Leadbelly right here on the Coolidge Stage. So this concert is in that tradition. Just a reminder, please turn off your cell phones so that researchers in 100 years don't hear your phone call during the concert. So now to introduce the performers and tell you a little bit about the tradition, I'd like to introduce Craig Miller. Craig is a folklorist who works at the Utah Arts Council. He's in charge of their Folk Arts Program. And it's thanks to him that we heard about this wonderful group and brought them here to play for you today. So let's have a warm welcome for Craig Miller. [applause] Craig Miller: Well, good afternoon. What a pleasure to be here. I'd like to give you a little background on old time Mormon music from the state of Utah, and give you some information about the band you're about to hear. Many of you might know that the Mormon pioneers came with traditions of America's east, of New England, the Midwest. And then when they settled in Illinois and Missouri, they brought in some traditions from the South. Well, in about 1846 the legendary trek across the West began when they looked for a new homeland. And they looked for a place outside the United States where they could have their own communities, and even settle their own country that they named Deseret. When they started out on the wagon train, Brigham Young discovered almost immediately the importance of music and dance in keeping communities' spirits uplifted. And we know from many pioneer journals that along the trek, after walking even 20 miles, they would gather their wagons, they would light their campfires, they would sing hymns, and then they would dance. And it was so unusual for a religious group of that period to find dancing so important that they would carry this all the way west. And by the time they got to Salt Lake City, they would dance almost every night of the week. And we've got that written in our old newspapers as proof. When Brigham Young continued settling the West, he sent pioneers into Arizona, north into Idaho, back east into Colorado, and south to California, he made sure there was an old time fiddler along with the wagon trains. And one of the stopping points where they would reorganize was the little town of Parowan. It was a place where they would organize other companies out. And music and dance was always a very important part of that culture in the intermountain West. Well, as you might expect, that old time tradition is getting hard to find anymore. There's still pockets of it that you can find; maybe an old senior citizen center dance will have a couple pioneer style dances just so they can share their heritage with the new immigrants and arrivals, or sometimes family traditions still hold these old songs. And it's really a treasure to find fellows who love this music so much that they've researched it among their own community and given a little bit of life to those 19th century black and white photographs that seem so stoically posed, but we forget that they laughed and they cried and had real human emotions. And a lot of these songs, you'll maybe recognize a tune, but many of the words are a bit different, because in that pioneer experience, which actually lasted through the middle of the 20th century because some of these villages are so frontier-like, even today, that those songs really express history, emotion, and they're sung from the heart. The Beehive Band has researched some of the traditions, some of the sources of these old time tunes and songs to discover some of the Scandinavian and British Isles roots. And it's with great pleasure that I introduce Mark Jardine, Paul Rasmussen, and Cliff Butter of The Beehive Band. [applause] [pause] Male Speaker: We always have to rearrange the furniture a bit here and get comfortable. [music] The Beehive Band: Come thou fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing thy grace; Streams of mercy never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise. O glory, glory hallelujah, Glory be to God who reigns on high. O glory, glory hallelujah, Glory be to God who reigns on high. Come thou fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing thy grace; Streams of mercy never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise. O glory, glory hallelujah, Glory be to God who reigns on high. O glory, glory hallelujah, Glory be to God who reigns on high. [music] [applause] The Beehive Boys: What's this that steals, that steals upon my frame! Is it death? Is it death? That soon will quench, will quench this vital flame. Is it death? Is it death? If this be death, I soon shall be From every pain and sorrow free, I shall the King of glory see. All is well! All is well! Weep not, my friends, my friends weep not for me, All is well! All is well! My sins are pardoned, pardoned I am free, All is well! All is well! There's not a cloud that soon doth arise To hide my savior from my eyes, I soon shall mount the upper skies. All is well! All is well! Tune, tune your harps, your harps, ye saints in glory, All is well! All is well! I will rehearse, rehearse the pleasing story, All is well! All is well! Bright angels are from glory come, They're round my bed, they're in my room, They wait to waft my spirit home. All is well! All is well! [applause] Paul Rasmussen: Well thank you very much. Well, that first bunch of music, that first couple of sets of music, kind of represent what you might call spanning the sacred and the profane, which is going to be kind of the theme of our concert today. Nineteenth century Utah music of course included quite a bit of religious music, hymns of praise and thanksgiving, but also songs that told stories and recorded history, and music for dancing, which as Craig mentioned was an integral part of the Mormon pioneer social fabric. So we're going to be doing some of all of those different kinds of things today. And we're going to really try to crank them out, because we only have one hour. And I'm going to let Mark tell you about the next one. Mark Jardine: Okay, we're going to jump right in to some dance music. Craig mentioned Parowan -- is the way they say it there -- which is a southern Utah town. And we were just commenting on how we've just come from the desert, and it's so weird to be here where it's very different. But Parowan was really down in the desert. And Brigham Young used to have lots of people who he'd send out -- people to colonize. And after they came clear across the plains, then he sent a group of people -- I think 120 people -- down to colonize what is now called the mother city of southern Utah, which is Parowan. And several years ago we came across a good friend of ours, Hal Cannon [spelled phonetically], who gave us a manuscript of 19th century Parowan dance music. And these are a couple of tunes from that. So they're very authentic from the southern Utah part. And they're called, two quadrilles -- Paul Rasmussen: No, they're not, are they? Mark Jardine: Yeah, two quadrilles. Cliff Butter: Don't argue, you guys. Mark Jardine: Don't interrupt me. Paul Rasmussen: Okay. [laughter] Mark Jardine: But they're in 6/8 time. And they're called "Old Smooth" and "John Aires," [spelled phonetically] which is one of the players there. Paul Rasmussen: I'm looking it up when we get home. [Laughter] Mark Jardine: I've got the book backstage. [laughter] [music] [applause] Paul Rasmussen: Thank you. Mark Jardine: You know, I forgot to mention, there's a great description of a dance down in Parowan in a journal, and it talks about -- it was a special occasion, so they hired two fiddlers instead of one. And of course without sound systems, they put them up on top of a table where they played so the music would project more. And the cost for the dance was two candles per person and so all the people would bring candles, and then they thought they'd have a nice lighted affair. However, when they get there, nobody had thought to bring any candlesticks. And so what they did -- this was in a log cabin -- and so people would take their jack knives and they would kind of, I guess, jack them. And then they'd stick them in between the logs and put their candles on that. And some people ran home and got potatoes and cut off the top. And so they'd sit and then put the candles in the top. And they had this lovely lighted dance. And those two particular tunes, I think, are very reminiscent of that. There's lots of descriptions in the journals of -- since once again there weren't sound systems, the people couldn't be as loud, and so they would be more stately. And these were cotillions, quadrilles. And those two tunes have those really "da-da-dee da-pa-dee da-da-dee da," which is a nice, stately kind of thing. So anyway, I'll turn the time over to Cliff. Cliff Butter: Thank you, Mark. Let's see, about 1868, I think that was the year before the transcontinental railroad was completed -- in Promontory, Utah, by the way. And prior to 1869, in order for immigrants to come west, they would come on wagons and hand carts and walk and ride horses. And the stickiest part for them was always the river crossing, where either there was a ferry there to ferry them across the worst rivers that they faced, or they would have to try to bring their wagons across. But the hardest part was getting the cattle to come across if the water was over six or seven feet deep. A lot of times the cattle would come into the water and then go back. And so they had to really work to get them across. And back in 1868, Brigham Young had sent wagons and young men to these crossing to help the immigrants across. And there was a tragedy at the Green River crossing in 1868, when six young boys from Parowan perished trying to get some cattle across the river. And this is a song that they created on their way back from that trip. And the Mormon pioneers sang it for years and years. I think this is probably the farthest east that the song's ever gotten. And so in honor of this great opportunity, I want to say the names of the six boys. Wow, I didn't realize I was going to be emotional about this. Neils Christopherson [spelled phonetically] and Peter Smith from Mantie [spelled phonetically], Peter Nelson from Fairview, Christian P. Jensen [spelled phonetically] and Jens Christian Nybol [spelled phonetically] from Mount Pleasant, and Thomas Yates from Melville, Cash County. Now I'm supposed to sing, so I don't know -- [laughter] Paul Rasmussen: That was a dumb thing to do. [laughter] Cliff Butter: I'm never doing that again. Okay, anyway, this is called "The Boys of Sanpete County." Paul Rasmussen: This is why we don't let Cliff out a lot. [music] Cliff Butter: We, the boys of Sanpete County, In obedience to the call, Started out with forty wagons To bring immigrants in the fall. Without fear or thought of danger Lightly on our way we sped; Every heart with joy abounded, Captain Seeley at the head. When we reached Green River ferry, On the banks that night we stayed. In the morning we started over, Thinking soon to roll away. And we tried to bring the cattle, But we found they would not swim. Oh, the boys were in the water Many hours up to their chins. Some to planks and boards were clinging, Down the river they did float; Some by heaven seem protected, Driven to shore upon the boat. Some to oxen horns were clinging, But for them it was all o'er, As these boys and cattle went under, Never more to step on shore. One he landed on an island, Clinging to the willow's green, But for him life soon extinguished, And he fell back into the stream. The six boys from parents driven And from friends that they did love, Yet there is a brighter morning Where we all shall meet above. We, the boys of Sanpete County, In obedience to the call, Started out with forty wagons To bring immigrants in the fall. Without fear or thought of danger Lightly on our way we sped; Every heart with joy abounded, Captain Seeley at our head. [music] [applause] Thank you. [music] Mark Jardine: We left our homes in Utah, it seemed so very hard To go to the Colorado, and there keep up a guard. The wind it blew so hard, and the sand it blew so thick We had to clean our eyes out with a spade and pick. We traveled on a few days until we got to Lee's, When a cow jumped over our wagon tongue and broke our whipple tree. We wrapped it with a stay chain, and tied it with a string, We worked it on to the Kanab got it fixed again. We stayed all night at this place, we had a little ball. The music it was good, but the house it was so small That when we all got in it, we could not turn around. So we went out in the door-yard and danced upon the ground. We traveled on to Windsor's, we had another ball, The house it was large enough to accommodate us all. The girls they were so pretty and they danced so very gay, We danced 'til we got tired, and then we went away. We traveled on to Johnson's our orders to receive, Here it was hot as hell without a bit of breeze. And when the wind it did come, it all came in a flirt. And golly it was hot enough to almost burn your shirt. And now we're in the river, the rocks they are so high You can't see out but one place, and that's up in the sky. The river is so muddy and it smells just like the breeze, That comes from the little [unintelligible] that stands among the trees. Our tea is full of sand and our bread is full of grit. The wind it blows all over us whenever it sees fit. So talk about your gritty men, I think we'll take the prize. We are sanded in and outside, and all around the eyes. [music] [applause] Mark Jardine: Thank you. That was a song called "We Left Our Homes in Utah." And I think it was later in the 1800s, there was a war going on called the Blackhawk War. I guess there was conflict between the Indians in the area and the Mormons. And so they sent some people down to guard around the Colorado River, to keep some of the -- not just the Indians, the robbers and different people from coming up into the area. So that was about being assigned to go down there and about their trip. And I love the description of the dances. And it was very interesting in the journals and everything, it talks a lot about they would either move all the furniture out into the yard so they could have a dance in the house or it would be too small so they'd go out and dance in the yard. And it seemed to be a common kind of theme. We're going to play some fiddle tunes now. We're going to start with one that goes back to the Scottish, Irish tradition. It's called "The Gal I Left Behind Me," or sometimes it's called "The Brighton Camp." And we'll play another version of that, so two versions of that. And then we'll go into two tunes that come once again from that Parowan manuscript. The first one is called "A Scotch Reel" And interestingly enough, in some journals it talks about some dances being held in the Nauvoo Temple. And it mentions that "A Scotch Reel" was played. And then we'll end with a tune called "The Cuckoo Polka." [music] [applause] Mark Jardine: I was trying to get Cliff's attention. We were in our practice, we'd -- at the end we'd jump up like in a rock and roll and come down. But I guess he chickened out, so -- [laughter] Paul and I play at this restaurant regularly in Salt Lake. And we've found that it doesn't matter what you play as long as it's a big ending. [laughter] Okay. This is -- once again, lots of colonization went on. Actually it went down through Nevada and into Colorado and New Mexico, but lots in southern Utah, which is a very desert area. And quite often at the pulpit in a conference or something, in a church meeting, sometimes they would just call somebody on a mission out of the blue. And this was about a fellow by the name of Doc Kenner, who was called to go down and colonize in Dixie -- is what they call it. And in Utah it's called the Utah Dixie, because it's -- the weather was such that they would grow cotton. They tried growing mulberry bushes and cultivating silk worms and all those kinds of things. Paul Rasmussen: And wine. Mark Jardine: And wine, that's right. I forgot that part. And so they tried to make a go of that for a long time. And that's why it's called Utah's Dixie. So this is about him going down to Dixie. And it also has an interesting reference in the song about working on the ditch. And the ditch refers to the waterway or the canal. And down in this desert area the water was so important to them. And the song is written to a melody called "The Drunken Hiccups," which is kind of a famous old fiddle tune. And so we're going to sing the song and play "The Drunken Hiccups." And it has kind of a hiccup part you'll notice in the song. And we learned this particular version from a man by the name of Casey Carchner [spelled phonetically], who lived down in Snowflake, Arizona, which was one of those colonized Mormon cities. [music] As I was a-walking on Main street one day, A comrade came to me and thus he did say, "Prepare yourself, Doc, for the favor is thine, To go down to Dixie, raise cotton, make wine." So I packed up my blankets, my hopes did run high, To pay my first homage to fair Dixie sky. And oh, but the hardships I then didn't see, Come pouring in plenty on Nancy and me. Arriving in Dixie, the scenery was grand, The lofty crowned cactus and rich sandy land. The food we brought with us was just about gone, But I said to Nancy, "We'll have to move on." My wife she come to me one morning and said, "I'll tell you the truth, Doc. We're quite out of bread." "Just hand me a sack," I replied with a frown, "I think I can borrow some cornmeal in Town." "Now Doc, you well know I took the last sack, To patch up the holes on your sun-stricken back." Yes, I tried one dark morning to lay down and die, And pay my last homage to fair Dixie's sky. But the Bishop came along and told me quite flat, "Come work on the ditch, Doc. There's no time for that." Now some years now have passed since that terrible day, Those scenes of hard trials have faded away. We'll now turn the pages and look for a while, On the sight of the picture that beams with a smile, Instead of the cactus, the snake and the thorn, We now have the grapevine, the cane and the corn. [music] [applause] Paul Rasmussen: Thank you very much. You know, in Utah Mormon culture -- is there any Mormons here? Don't be shy. Okay, great. Anybody from Utah here? Okay. Cliff Butter: Hey, all the Mormons are from Utah. [laughter] Paul Rasmussen: No, that guy up there wasn't. No. Mark Jardine: In fact, we play with this guy sometimes, right over there, Stew Nell [spelled phonetically], our good friend who's working back here is from Utah, a nice fiddle player. Paul Rasmussen: Well, I want to tell you -- explain a little bit about a couple of things. I want to tell you that in Utah Mormon culture, people tend to fall into one of four basic categories. Okay, there's active Mormons, people who are actively practicing the faith. Ther are non-Mormons, also called gentiles -- Mark Jardine: -- actively not practicing the faith. Male Speaker: Utah is probably one of the only places where you can be a Jewish gentile. There are what I call ethnic Mormons, people who were born into the religion, but even though they may respect and revere the cultural heritage, they don't necessarily practice the religion. And then there's also what we call Jack Mormons. And Jack Mormons are people that kind of practice the religion to the point that it's not too inconvenient. They're best exemplified by the old Utah adage that you should always take two Mormons fishing with you, because if you only take one, he'll drink all of your beer. We're going to do an old Jack Mormon cowboy song that celebrates the joys of having a day off, and getting on your horse, and meeting up with your buddies and going out for a long ride, getting roaring drunk and just hoping that you make it home alive, or without running into your bishop. Paul Rasmussen: One, two, three, one, two -- [laughs] I did. One more time? One, two, three, one, two. [music] The Beehive Boys: Well, me and my partner, we left town this morning, The beautiful night we did run. We got to the foot of the Merrit [spelled phonetically] in Dugway, And a friend unexpected did come. We three joined as comrades a-riding together, A-passing jokes all the long, We rode out to Slappy's and called for a bottle Of the purest of sweet Dixie wine. Then it's back to dear St. George again, It's back to dear St. George again, If ever I live to get through this long journey, I'll be back to dear St. George again. [music] We got on our horses and spurs we did give them, A beautiful race we did run, My friend hollered out, "Please pass the bottle, My friends, and we soon will be gone." About half past twelve, we found ourselves halted In front of Judd's store at the Reed [spelled phonetically]. We pulled off our saddles and turned loose our horses, And a charming young woman did see. Then it's back to dear St. George again. It's back to dear St. George again. If ever I live to get through this long journey, I'll go back to dear St. George again. Then it's back to dear St. George again. It's back to dear St. George again. If ever I live to get through this long journey, I'll go back to dear St. George again. [music] [applause] Paul Rasmussen: Thank you. Okay boys, ten minutes warning. Ten minutes before the hook comes out, so we got to get cranking here. Okay, sheep shearing. We can do this, four tunes in 10 minutes? Mark Jardine: This is a -- my wife's dad was a sheep rancher in southern Utah. And this is a tune I wrote in -- I guess commemoration of all the great stories I heard about sheep ranching up on Cedar Mountain. Cliff Butter: This is, by the way, an example of the living tradition part of this, because people are still writing tunes and songs in the tradition in today's time. So it's a living tradition. It still is continuing. It's not just old music, although a lot of it is old music. But there are people who are composing using those styles still today. Mark Jardine: Although we are old composers. Cliff Butter: We're old composers, yeah. They're all old. [laughter] Mark Jardine: And pretty soon that hook's going to come out for us in life. Cliff Butter: Let's not get morbid here. The Beehive Boys: When sheep shearing's done, and we all ride home To our wives and our children and all of our own, We will all be so merry, so bright and content, We will all be so merry, when sheep shearing's done. Be it ever so gay with the sheep all a-graze, The Columbia and Suffolk and wooly Rambouillet, But it still brings more pleasure to turn and ride for home, But it still brings more pleasure when sheep shearing's done. When the season is o'er, and the sheep are all shorn, We will sit 'round the table and call for our own, And we'll call for our mutton, potatoes and greens, And we'll call for our mutton when sheep shearing's done. When sheep shearing's done, and we all ride home, To our wives and our children and all of our own, We will all be so merry, so bright and content, We will all be so merry, when sheep shearing's done. [applause] Mark Jardine: We'll play a couple of quick instrumentals. The first is a tune of Irish origin. It's called "The Yellow Road." And we kind of picked up on it because it's a lot like a famous hymn in Mormonism. And we'll follow "The Yellow Road" with that song. It's called "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief." In Mormon culture it's a fairly famous song, because it was sung at the Carthage jail right before Joseph Smith was martyred. So it kind of has a lot of connection. Then we'll follow it yet with one more Parowan tune called "Joe Hyatt's Shawdish [spelled phonetically]." And it's not up to dance speed, but it's such a pretty tune that we kind of slow it down. [music] [applause] Mark Jardine: Thank you. This is a tune that we've only heard in Utah. It's kind of a -- it's been a famous tune around Salt Lake for the last 30, 35 years, because of a member in a band that Mark played in back in those days called The Deseret String Band. Leonard Coleson [spelled phonetically], the banjo player, got ahold of this tune. This tune, we think, was written in -- Paul Rasmussen: Did somebody just clap for Leonard Coleson? Mark Jardine: Wow. Paul Rasmussen: Oh, you did. Mark Jardine: Anyway, this tune -- Cliff Butter: We'll have to let him know that, so -- Mark Jardine: This tune was written in late 1800s. These were kind of playful tunes that used to come out during dances. In between the dances they would have people play tunes for entertainment. And a lot of times they'd try to do kind of slap happy tunes. This one is called "The Boaster." [music] I've been to gay Paree Where the wind at half past three Went rolling along where the boys belong Hollering ta-ra-boom-de-yay I've danced the oyster can Down on the American plan And I shed great tears when I got three years For stealing a couple of Texas steers I've been to Kansas C. I've been out on a spree I've been in jail, been out on bail And I've been on a ship that would not sail I've been to Ohio likewise to Buffalo Indianapolis, Cincinnati Louisville and Camay-o I've been up in a balloon I've been in a saloon I've been dead broke and I've been soaked And I drank and I drank till I thought I would croak I've been -- I've been an awful dude And sometimes rather rude I've had hard luck and I've been dead stuck And I've been the driver of a two-horse truck I've been in many a scrap I've had a real hard slap My eyes have been draped in mourning and crepe For a year and a half I've been stuck on the shape I've lived in bum hotels Paid prices that were swelled Slept in bum beds and I've died and bled Chasing the bedbugs round my head Been bungled once or twice With cards and shaking dice Bet a house and a lot and a fourteen-spot But I pulled my leg plumb full of knots I've often played baseball I've been umpire and all Been hit with clubs and sticks and bricks And thumped about in a terrible fix I've been to Chicago too That place where the wind blew through I went to a fair where they clipped my hair And charged me a dollar an inch for air I've been down on the track At a racehorse took a crack Bet a ten or two on a horse I knew But the horse dropped dead and he never came to I've lived on pork and beans I've slept in room thirteen Been out at night and I've seen the sights And I've hit the pike near the candlelight I've been to Salt Lake too 'Twas the only place I knew Where the girls were beauties and they does their duties And they chews the gum called the Tuttsi-Fruttsi I've been to Indi-ann I've stepped on a banann I slipped, I fell, it hurt like well But the words I used I must not tell I also rode a wheel and run an automobile Had a prizefight, made a gold strike but since that night I've never been right I fought for the blue and the gray I've slept on a bale of hay Drove a mule, taught public school But I never could learn that golden rule I've drank red lemonade Twas made with a posthole spade And I've shot snipes with electric lights And I marched with the Salvation Army at night I've been in politics, too oh, how the money flew At Tammany Hall I had a great fall But I never could learn to sing "After the Ball" I've been where I didn't belong; you've heard this lovely song Now these are the facts, and I made a few cracks And I got it in the neck, where the chicken got the ax. Da de le da da de le da da de le da dum. Dyum da de dum, dum bum. [applause] Cliff Butter: That really is an incredibly daunting task to get into that tune and make it all the way through it. But we've warned Mark that we can't rescue him because we're busy playing and vamping over here and we can't take our hands off our instruments to give him a hand. Mark Jardine: That song, however, is the answer to getting Alzheimer's. If you sing that song -- and I feel confident I'm not going to get Alzheimer's. Paul Rasmussen: Well, we're going to do one more. We got time for one more? Ooh, we're right there. Okay. Well, we want to thank you all for coming. This is a real pleasure for us. You know, we've played together, the three of us, in different bands for more than 30 years. And The Beehive Band has been through a lot of personnel changes over the years. This is the first time we've ever played together as -- doing this kind of music with this particular configuration. So, you know, it's kind of like, what could we -- what's a nice, low stress job that we could do, you know, just for our first gig. How about the Library -- -- of Congress? So we've had a great time. We've only been slightly terrified. We're going to do one more set of tunes, again from the Parowan manuscript. They're a couple of quadrilles again. Right, Mark? Quadrilles? Mark Jardine: Yes. Paul Rasmussen: And the first one's called "The Two Friends Quadrille." And the second is "Bishop Harm Baileys [spelled phonetically]." Mark Jardine: Just -- we talked to Thea before -- our contact, her, at the Library of Congress. And she said we can't actually sell CDs, but if you want to know anything about that, you can come up and talk to us after. We can't sell them, but you could contribute 20 dollars and we'll give you one. And it's very important. You know, our kids for many years -- we leave them in those same tight shoes every year. We can't change their shoes, and their braces, and stuff like that, you know. So, no pressure. [laughter] Actually, we would like to thank a group of people -- now, Cliff, you had that list. Do you remember who it was? I know we're going to get this wrong. Paul Rasmussen: It's the American Folklife Center of the Library of Congress' Homegrown Concert Series. How'd I do? Is that right? [applause] Cliff Butter: And it will be going on -- there are probably nine -- at least the poster I saw looked like it had nine -- Paul Rasmussen: A whole bunch of stuff, great stuff. Mark Jardine: We'd like to thank Thea Austen and also Craig Miller from the Utah Arts Council, who have been really the main people who have organized this and brought us here. So we sure appreciate that. And I know there are many, many people behind the scenes. We have Steve on the sound up there, I think his partner Chris. And I know I'm going to forget some names. But please know that we thank you. Paul Rasmussen: I was just -- I saw the hook start to come through the door there, Mark. Mark Jardine: Let's go. [music] [applause] Mark Jardine: Thank you very much. Paul Rasmussen: That's again. Have a great afternoon. Thea Austen: Thank you. Thank you for coming, and thank you for listening to this great band, The Beehive Band. [music] [end of transcript]