The Day We Walked Around With A Banjo And Everyone Stared At Us

Angsty hipster band, a.k.a. Ray Secondo and me on a normal Monday afternoon.

Springtime is for walks, yes? Ideally, aimless walks on the back streets of a small town.... with a banjo.

If you and your heavily bearded, banjo-playing pal also happen to have dressed like trashy hipsters that day, well, so much the better. That way you can take an angsty selfie with some old office buildings and street signs in the background, and everyone you pass will stare at you and think, What? Also you can make an artsy blog post about it later, because that's what we do here in the counterculture.


My friend Ray Secondo has a beard. Like, a real beard. And I have long, messily braided hair. And I was wearing black skinny jeans and a Michael Jackson Thriller T-shirt and Chuck Taylor shoes and off-red lipstick, and he was wearing a shirt with a football and the words STILL UNDEFEATED on it and a weird throwback '90s five-panel hat with a funky pattern and blue shorts and gray shoes.

Ray plays multiple instruments, so many that I've lost track. Today he kinda wanted to play his banjo, and I kinda wanted to go for a walk, which is how we ended up going for a walk while Ray played his banjo.

We set out from the university and walked several blocks south, wading in among the quiet, sun-beaten town houses with their cute little flowerbeds and lawn ornaments. Along the path, Ray was twanging away at banjo licks, switching back and forth between Scruggs and clawhammer styles. The quiet, happy music filled the air. I never thought of myself as a banjo person in the past, but hearing it played in person has converted me. The sound! It evokes a complete atmosphere, the essence of folk America.


Despite the beautiful sunny weather, at first we saw almost no one out in their yards or traversing the sidewalks. But then the encounters started happening.

Our first human (and canine) audience came in the form of a young couple out walking their dog. The dude had a beard, although not quite as epic as Ray's. I could feel his eyes on the banjo as we approached. In no time, his face broke into a brilliant grin. "Yeah, man!" he said, and I grinned back.

A few houses down, an elderly couple was out on their porch, and at the sound of the banjo, the gentleman got up and walked a few paces out onto his front lawn in our direction. "All right! Got a little country gospel," he exclaimed. We laughed and nodded. "There's a bluegrass festival over to Kendalville in a couple weeks," he added.

"Have a nice day!" his wife called from the porch as we continued down the street. We wished her the same happy fate.

And the faces kept staring. In car windows. Over garden walls. Everyone wanted to see the crazy college kids with the banjo. And we obliged them. No matter how awkward it got, Ray kept playing, and I kept enjoying it.


As our epic (and odd) journey neared its end, and campus was almost visible through the rows of trees and clapboard estates, I looked up and noticed a purple house with a lovely garden.

"Hey, I bet this is my creative writing teacher's house," I said suddenly.

Then I saw the little library box chock full of books and I knew I was right.

Ray stopped playing. "Any good books?"

We opened the box. Pride and Prejudice. A Boxcar Kids book. A biography of Rosa Parks. I picked that one up and leafed through it. Definitely a lot of good books. But I left them for another day.

Another day when the spirit moves me to stroll out into the sunshine and wander off the beaten path. Another day when I get the urge to take the ordinary world in front of me, and do something out of the ordinary with it. Because you have to take these opportunities where you can get them. Next time you have the chance to do something weird and wonderful, do it.

Although, admittedly, you may not have a weird and wonderful friend with a banjo to make things that much more bizarre and amazing.