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MUSIC CORNER
Stephanie’s party
By Robert Feuer
Я
TRIANGULATED
ZA wooden sign out-
X-Lside the Valley
Ford Hotel, built in
1864, says “Rooms
Available.” Next door is
the shuttered, yellow-
bricked Dairyman’s
Bank, dating back to
1893. The view from
the hotel’s deck is
one of golden, rolling
hills, cows grazing, old
barns and stands of
eucalyptus. A California flag floats in a scurrying
breeze. 4
Inside the hotel is Rocker Oysterfeller’s, an
establishment that bills itself as a “kitchen and
saloon.” On this past Friday the 13th, a group of
people congregated there to celebrate the 30th
birthday of Stephanie Salva, a local vocalist who
has sung with Monte Rio’s favorite band, the
Thugz. With a backdrop of pine trees, dressed in
a black shirt depicting multi-colored dragonflies,
Salva tightly clutched a shiny, brand-new
microphone, one of her birthday presents. She
looked like Dorothy, upon her arrival in Oz.
Barry Sless, a member of the David Nelson
Band, who also performs with Phil Lesh and
Friends and the Flying Other Brothers, came
along for the ride. Sless said he was there because
he’s “a friend of Stephanie’s and it was a chance
to jam.” Sitting at his pedal steel guitar, guru¬
like with long, curly hair and a purple shirt and
jacket, he backed up the other musicians, none
of whom he had ever played with before. When
he showed the way on some very sweet leads he
seemed to barely skim the strings.
Sless, a Baltimore native, has been playing
western swing and boogie-woogie pedal steel
since 1973. He joined Kingfish in ’87, followed by
the David Nelson Band in ’94. Much of the music
he has participated in reflects the sound of the
Grateful Dead and the songwriting of Robert
Hunter.
Also on hand were Brino Ism and Adam Walsh
of the band, the Jug Dealers out of Santa Rosa,
self-described hoboes who are into bluegrass
and roots music with a touch of musical theatre.
Ism, a clown at heart, blew some excellent
harmonica, and also conjoined with a ceramic
whiskey jug (hand-made Canadian stock) to
create some unusual sounds.
Wearing a derby hat and a red, plastic nose,
Ism also performed on a mean ukulele. He
delighted the crowd with such favorites as “Drop
Bush Not Bombs” and “Bush is a Dummy,” his
humorous songs and anecdotes bringing back
memories of Tiny Tim and Lord Buckley.
The fog blew in and then out again. Soon
the sky darkened. Walsh, brandishing some
highly effective guitar rhythms, joined in
ethereal harmonies with Salva, especially on the
mesmerizing “ Drifting Too Far From the Shore.”
Ism’s harp cried softly in the background.
It’s been 74 years since the railroad that
traveled from Cazadero to San Francisco passed
through Valley Ford. Some say ghost trains
can sometimes be heard sweeping across the
plains. The band performed a train song, Ism’s
harmonica echoing the wail of its whistle, with
Walsh’s guitar powering the engine.
Valley Ford, with a population of 60 at the
last census, strikes one as a town that has faded
since the loss of it’s whistle stop status, steeped
in the past but happy
to be there.
Across the street
from the hotel a
small, ramshackle
building sports a
sign identifying itself
as “OK Cement.”
A rusting, metal
advertisement for
Old Gold cigarettes
depicts Babe Ruth
taking “a blindfold
cigarette test.” The
motto says, “Not a
cough in a carload.”
Another, with a
picture of a chicken,
recalls a .company
that sold “Lay or
Bust” feeds.
The band played
on. Terry Ann
Gillette, violinist
extraordinaire, who
seems to play with
every west county band, was wearing one of her
signature long flowing, flowery dresses. Jeremy
Sharp, a reporter for the West Marin Citizen,
played a conga drum with a light touch that
suited the music. A group of four young children
performed as backup dancers with boundless
energy.
Frontstage was Salva, drinking up every
moment, sealing the event as part of her being
forever. “I’m so happy I could just fly away,”
she said, her round, smiling face hovering over
the night, wherever you looked, like a friendly
moon. ■
