The Balladeer is completely at ease with talking over his own music. Lots of his conversations happen this way. "Yes," he responds, keeping up the playing. His hands move easily along the strings without much apparent effort, like second nature. "It's easy enough to play them and sing. It has to be portable, too."

Maybe now that he's got a little more freedom, he could learn to play a few more? He could do a lot of things. "I'll have to show you, once I get a few more. Not in a dream, I mean." That'd be easier, but the banjo is good enough for now, and playing is more relaxing than rambling on about mandolins and ukeleles.