Ohio Valley Filk Fest 23

GoH: Michael "Moonwulf" Longcor

Moonwulf is known for anything from moving, driving ballads about draught horses and battles to silly songs about rhinotillexomania (go ahead, look it up).

Truths and Falsitudes About Michael Longcor
by Jack Shiloh,
long-time close personal associate of same

There are stories out there about Michael Longcor. You maybe have heard some of them, you maybe haven't. Some are true, and some aren't. The problem for most folks is separating the true from the aren't-true. Here's a quick list that may help. Some of this stuff I know to be true, ‘'cause I was there. Some of this is what Michael claims is true. With Mike, though, it seems the less likely it sounds, the more likely it's true.

He's a member of the Dorsai Irregulars.
True. Though he's now classed with the Old and Slow contingent of that otherwise competent group. He does seem to be proud to be associated with them.

He once placed third in a Cricket-Spitting contest.
True. But only because the wind was with him.

He sings a lot of strange and offbeat songs.
I don't think so, but some of the more uptight people I know seem to. Dr. Demento once called his stuff "strange."

He's been associated with ten albums put out by Firebird Arts & Music, the most recent being Boarding Party, a collection of pirate-ish songs which is cited on the Talk Like A Pirate Day web site as being full of "Piratitude."
True. But it's not like he was ever really a pirate or anything. Not that I know of, anyway.

He helped General Chuck Yeager park a P-51 Mustang.
True. But he only did it once.

He's a published short-story writer.
True. At last count, three stories in various collections including Sun In Glory, Crossroads and Bedlam's Edge.

He once worked as an advisor for the NSA's Men In Black unit.
False. Never happened. No record or witnesses anywhere. Though come to think of it there wouldn't be.

He once rode a bicycle down a ski run.
True. But it was by mistake.

He's won more Pegasus awards than anyone.
False. You're thinking of Tom Smith. Mike did win six Pegasus awards. Two of those were for Best Performer. I think the standards have gone up since then.

He once helped quell a riot while wearing a Klingon outfit and garish toe socks in the Manhattan Hilton during a Star Trek convention.
Supposedly true. But the only credible witness has disappeared. Somewhere there is a photo of him at that con in Klingon drag, taken by Candice Bergen, but that's it.

He was once a fencing instructor.
True, but he never made any money at it.

He's a blacksmith.
Only true once in a while. He used to do it for money, but there was more profit in being a fencing instructor.

He's fun to listen to in concert.
This one's a matter of personal opinion. For me, listening to him is a lot more fun when I'm drunk. But then, almost everything else is, too.

He's the only English Major to graduate from Purdue University.
False. He's just the only one most people in fandom have heard of.

He shoots things.
True. But only on purpose, usually for pleasure or as necessary; mostly targets and the occasional game animal or varmint.

He only drinks single-malt whiskey.
Really false. He's much too cheap. Though I think that is his preference, along with dark beer.

He once acted as an escort/bodyguard for author Robert A. Heinlein.
True. But if you're of a certain age and in the DI, who hasn't?

He was born in Texas.
False. He was born in Indiana. The story is, however, that he did get his start in Texas (if ya know what I mean).

He used to be a weapons and survival consultant for author Gordon R Dickson.
True. When he needed information for his fiction writing, Gordie used to call Michael at all hours with questions like "How do you trap a pregnant goat under primitive conditions and not hurt it?"

His nickname is "Moonwolf."
False. Actually, his nickname is "Moonwulf" (notice the "u") or just "Wulf." The "Moonwulf" thing came from his years spent climbing into armor and whacking people with swords in the Society for Creative Anachronism. I hear he was pretty good at that kind of thing back in the day. More people know him as "Michael" or even "Mike." I call him, "Mr. Longcor," but only until I get the negatives back.

He's old.
True. But I wouldn't let him hear you say that. He hits hard. He dates younger women. There's that shooting thing, too.

Or just ask him about toe socks.

Toastmaster: Marty Coady Fabish

Marty has, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful, earthy voices in filk. She uses it to good account, singing torch songs such as "Po' Boys", which is a bluesy, sideways look at fairy tales. She is calm, gracious, and wonderfully welcoming and talented. It is as much a joy to speak with her as to listen to her sing.

Some years ago (defined as being before American Idol and after the receding of the glaciers), I walked into my first filk sing. I didn't know it at the time, but I was walking in on an all-star lineup of Midwestern filkdom; Juanita Coulson, Al Frank, Robert Asprin, Bob and Ann Passovoy, and an amazingly talented young (very young, younger than me, even) woman who broke my heart with her voice and looks (though maybe not in that order). The young woman was Martha Coady (now Coady–Fabish). I sat there and listened as she sang "Mary O'Meara" and "Fal Morgan", and wondered how I was going to get the nerve to sing anything myself .

Flash to New York and the Manhattan Hilton, less than a year later, and the eve of an infamous Star Trek convention called StrekTacular. I'd managed to work the con as part of the Dorsai Irregular crew, posing as the Klingon Diplomatic Corps. That convention (through no fault of the Crew) went down in DI history as a surreal combination of Galaxyquest and the Alamo. I managed to survive the week, at a considerable loss of personal composure and dignity. But throughout it, I kept seeing Martha again, acting cool and competent throughout what seemed at the time (and mostly was) a disaster. One of my few truly pleasurable memories of that convention was the after-hours DI filk sing, and Martha's voice. Once again, I found myself wondering how I could follow a class act like hers, except now it wasn't just because of her singing.

Later, she got married and left fandom for some years, a period in Midwestern filking that was marked by the frequent statement, "Gee, remember how well Martha used to do that song? New faces and voices joined the community, but for me they were always followed by the nagging thought, "Man, they should have heard Marty."

Then came the 2000 WorldCon in Chicago. I caught sight of a beautiful, silver-haired woman standing in a pedestrian tunnel. I pled with her to sit in and sing a few songs at a later concert of mine. She started to sing "Mary O'Meara," and I looked out over the audience and found I could easily tell the new filk fans from the older ones. The new ones had their mouths hanging open. The older ones had tears in their eyes. Martha was back, and I was once again 20 years old, wondering how I'd follow her.

Since then she's become gloriously active again in filking and fandom. She's garnered Pegasus award nominations (for "Po' Boys," a torchy, bluesy, sideways look at some old fairy tales), is working on a CD and can often be seen in the Dealers Room, selling the gorgeous, gracious, vintage kimono offered by her business, Secondhand Silk.

So be glad. Be very glad. Martha's back and you can listen to her, so don't miss the chance. Just remember to be kind to the poor guy who has to follow her.

Michael Longcor,
March, 2007,
Flying Wolf Farm

Honored Listeners: Bob & Anne Passovoy

Bob and Anne Passovoy do not actually exist as separate entities. Born in 19 mumble mumble in widely separate parts of the Midwest, they comprise the two united soul-fragments of a legendary "Ur-Faan" who was a reasonable percussionist and sang well.

Uncomfortable (their children say "unreasonably grouchy") when separated, the Anne-fragment is a talented singer-songwriter and middlin' guitarist whose muse got squished by the corporate world. The Bob-fragment carries a tune like a concealed weapon, seems to feel that most filksongs need a strong bass line and has taken up the washtub bass in an effort to get people mad at him. He is of the strong and unalterable opinion that contemporary filk is far too 'ose and that the Bardic Circle is a tool of Satan.

They both like songs with a strong, up-tempo beat, an absence of repetition, a point to make, an economy of verses, and a viciously sneaky punch line. Together, they are the Anti-'Ose.

Bob has written a new autobiographical filk recently and would debut it if only the Suttons would give it back to him.

InterFilk Guest: Ellen "Blade" McMicking

Blade first performed solo at the age of eight. She's been composing her own songs (tunes & lyrics) for about 36 years now (but we won't tell...). She has worked conventions (in various capacities) since the mid-70's, and was inducted into the Dorsai Irregulars in 1994.