ERIC PETERS

(slack tuned with the 1st string dropped another whole step to ‘C’ = DGCFAC)
One of the first songs written and completed upon our relocation to Birmingham, AL. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times… Jan. 6-12, 2000. I was homesick to the bone. We moved to the ‘Ham in late Oct. 1999, spent the holidays with family back in our native Baton Rouge and had returned to Alabama to brave the winter. It was a cold one, I remember. What with Danielle working 40-hour weeks as a seamstress in a custom fabric store and me not knowing a soul, I was a wreck as I worked at home trying to book enough shows to keep the dream alive for yet another season. Many tears were shed that first winter as I experienced my own “slew of second thoughts”. I wouldn’t have made it through that first year without Danielle. It was hard to miss home and know, at the same time, that we were exactly where we needed to be. My heart did its fair share of hurting that year and I, in turn, grew as a result. You can see me reaching for my roots in this song.

A semi-fictional, semi-biographical sketch about my mother’s parents, Wilton & Lucille Fortenberry. They were farmers in the southern red dirt town of Tylertown, MS. Our hands reveal so much about us. Hands hold us, nurture us, caress us, feed us, correct us and “learn” us. Hands tell the God-honest truth. “These Hands” is among my favorite of choruses I’ve managed to write over the years.

Then there’s also the legacy of curious names in both mine and Danielle’s family trees. Some names border on strange, some obscure and some simply defy reason, but I’ll save that for a concert.