Published: October 15, 2009 04:28 pm      

I SAY: Does it get any better than this?

An unspoken tradition of ours is to dine out at least once a week, usually on Friday or Sunday evenings, and that weekly journey sometimes leads us to Cracker Barrel.

It is not a bad choice, especially this time of year, with just a bit of a nip in the air, the first hint of nature showing her fall colors and the smell of a burning fireplace in the air.

Does it get better than that? Yes, it does.

After placing our order, Susan and I passed the time chatting and people watching when all of a sudden, the strains of bluegrass music arrived at our table as did our food.

"Sounds like the Darlings are here," I told the waitress, referring to the famous mountain bluegrass group from The Andy Griffith Show. At that point I thought someone had just turned on the in-store music.

"Some group was passing through and they asked if they could play a few songs," the waitress replied.

As we dined from the fall apple menu, the happy notes of bluegrass music accompanied our chewing.

I like bluegrass music. It reminds me of the falling leaves. Each instrument seemingly going helter skelter just like leaves blowing in a fall breeze, yet like the leaves, the music all ends up at the same place at the same time.

And this three-person group — an up-right bass player, banjo player and guitar player — was good.

Steve Martin, a banjo virtuoso in his own right, once said if Richard Nixon had been a banjo player, he would have never gotten in trouble over spying on the Democrats.

"What about Watergate, Mr. President?"

"Oh, I don't know anything about that, but how about a little Foggy Mountain Breakdown?"

Martin is right. It is hard not to smile when you hear good banjo music and it is hard not to tap your foot or clap your hands listening to bluegrass. Diners were clapping and keeping beat and applauding.

After two songs the group moved over to a table and sang "Happy Birthday" to a young lady. I am sure it will be a birthday that will be remembered.

A manager came by the table and I asked him who they were. It seems they were just a family group passing through on their way home to Smithville.

It got me to thinking. Cracker Barrel is missing the boat here. Country setting, country food, rockers on the front porch, why not bluegrass music one or two nights a week on the porch with the music piped in?

I know I would be back for seconds.

It was a nice ending to a good weekend. Grandson Gavin — Amber and Joe's new addition — celebrated his first birthday by playing through half of his Sunday afternoon party, and sleeping through the second half.

And an impromptu mini bluegrass concert while dining at Cracker Barrel. Does it really get any better than that? Monday won't be such a bear to face now.