I remember Tampa's glorious music scene in the 1960s and 1970s, and its distinctive folk, blues and southern rock sound (The Outlaws were from Tampa). Little of it survives today, but it makes you wonder how that sort of tradition evolves, flourishes and then transforms. And it has a strong historical component--Tampa Red, the legendary black bluesman probably started it all back in the 1920s, although he did his best work much later, up North. And later, during my high school days, came the Beaux Arts Coffee House in Pinellas Park, the hub of the folk scene, the Darcy Farrow and Silver Daggers set (Yes, I'm an Ian and Sylvia and Gordon Lightfoot fan too!)

When you're there, watching it happen, you get a sense, even if only a brief glimpse; of being part of a social and cultural movement that comes from the people, the community, and which transcends even the talent and hard work of the musicians that lie at its core. And if you were there, hung out at the clubs, knew a few of the personalities personally, and followed the few who made the big time when they left town, it gives you a feeling of how you were a part of that historical flow, even if only a tiny part of it.

And you realize that art comes from the people, not the parasites and hustlers who feed off it at the edges. The community, the culture, has a life of its own, one that transcends the individuals that make it up, and that community is made up of the artists, their fans, even the casual audience and the infrastructure of managers, promoters, entrepreneurs and venue operators that all play a role in that symphony, make up little threads of an incredibly rich tapestry.

It is a tapestry that no one sees in its entirety, no matter how much they were involved in it. But if you were there, and experienced even a little piece of it, you get a feeling of how big it was, and how beautiful, and how important it was, not only to those who vaguely sensed it, or who just happened to be there while it happened.

And then you realize, it wasn't just in your home town. It was everywhere. It was all over. It wasn't just New York, and San Francisco, and Los Angeles, and Nashville, and London. And you also realize how much has been lost, of similar scenes in other times and other places that no one remembers, where no one survives.

This is what society, what civilization is for. This is why we're here.