
Desist them, I implore you, from despising the sacred Muses; don't think them worthless or unprofitable. It is by their gift that you yourself have the skill to match a thousand notes to fit rhythms and the expertise to vary the singer's voice through a thousand modulations. . . ."
-John Milton
"Ad Patrem (To his Father)"
An older man seated toward the back of the audience raised his hand. "We're from New Orleans," he said after the show's host, a folklorist named Doug Boyd, acknowledged him, "and we were wondering what other styles you use in playing and if you've played in anything other than Bluegrass."
"Well," said the featured performer, seated between his accompanist Jeff Gurnsey and folklorist Boyd, pausing to formulate the answer, "I did play on a polka record."
The audience burst into laughter with a sprinkle of applause. We were in the Callahan Museum on the second floor of the American Printing House for the Blind for the first installment of the museum's Bards and Storytellers series, featuring entertainers who are blind. Every seat in the performance area was occupied. Outside, the weather was warm for early April in Louisville. The room felt like a window needed to be opened. It had the kind of mild heat that you don't notice at first until your upper lip begins to sweat. Read more about Michael Cleveland here.

