Here's a shot I did of Joan in her front yard for the Boston Globe Magazine.
(The goddess, diva, leftie sleeps in a tree loft on dry nights.)
Scott's friends Todd Phillips, Dirk Powell and John Doyle
backed up Joan Baez last night.
John's persuasive melodic percussive guitar,
Dirk's downbeatin' creamy bayou fiddle,
Todd's oxblox acoustic electric bass,
like smooth caramel pouring out-the-kettle.
While-they-tune patter from Joanie about
our recent election night, when
she and this band were outside D.C.,
in Alexandria, Virginia,
in their hotel rooms,
in their safari bathrobes,
when they saw the
on the hotel telly.
"Let's get a cab and drive to the White House!" cried Joan.
Off they went, telling the taxi driver to,
please by all means, lay on your horn.
Dirk, after show packing up, being his own crew,
says to us, "It's like seeing everything she marched for come true."
Joan Baez, salty singer said to the ovation,
"I was never in it for the money, but I love the adulation."
The musicians glowed in the lights of the stage.