QOD: Come up with some possible band names for your group that features a washboard and a styrofoam tuba.

Come to see the show, didja? Gotta say, we all’s plumb proud o’ what Miz Hoote done with them Holler kids. Lotta talent in that there family, them Hootes. ‘Course Miz Hoote were Mabel Downs afore she got hitched. Yup, that selfsame Mabel Downs what won all them singin’ trophies way back when. Bascomb gal she were. Not much to look at even then, way I heared it. Ha! Too much to look at, guess you might say. All them Downs is like that. So fond o’ meals they shove a few more into ever day than plain folk do. Got them meals whittled down to three or four myself, with a extry snack to git me through the sabbath.

Harry Hoote, now, been fiddlin’ since knee high, just like his daddy done afore him, and his granddaddy as well, if’n you ain’t feared to take the word o’ the ol’ folk hereabout. Kinda shy, which were why it taked a heap o’ encouragin’ to git that boy to enter that contest what they hold down to Bascomb ever year. He were finally pushin’ twenty when his daddy up ‘n’ fetched him into the truck ‘n’ hauled him on down, cuz waitin’ another year woulda put him over the age limit.

Wouldn’t look a soul in the eye, that boy, but he go on ‘n’ play like his daddy told him. He’s winnin’ one round after t’other without breakin’ a sweat. Win hisself best fiddle, then best string, ‘n’ finally gits hisself into the finals by winnin’ best intrument. ‘Bout this time he go off to see them singin’ semi-finals ‘n’ that’s when he gits hisself a look at ol’ Mabel. Now I cain’t say what that boy thinked to hisself catchin’ a eyeful o’ that roly-poly gal, but once she gits that voice floatin’ out over them triple chins, ol’ Harry’s a goner, plain ‘n’ simple.

Now way it works is finals is for best playin,’ best singin’ ‘n’ best composin,’ them three gittin’ a chance to outdo each one the other. Mabel, o’ course, gits in for singin’ just like everbody knowed goin’ in. Cain’t remember the composin’ feller’s name—don’t much matter anyhow. Harry gits his heels dug in good ‘n’ proper. Ain’t no way he’s gonna compete ‘gainst that songbird, ‘n’ it ain’t fear promptin’ him. His daddy gits mighty loud arguin’ with him over it, ‘n’ Mabel, on her way to git her some more o’ them foot-longs with chili, stops to take her a listen.

Some say Harry ain’t all that much to look at hisself, but it don’t seem Mabel heared o’ that impression. Falls dandy hard for that boy on the spot. Now she ain’t gonna compete ‘gainst him neither, ‘n’ her folks is joinin’ the melee when Mabel’s cousin visitin’ from up north somewheres gives ‘em all an idea. Thus it come that it were a duet won that year, ‘n’ the duetin’ just keeps a’goin’ ‘til Harry’s daddy give him a nudge ‘n’ he goes ‘n’ pops the question.

Mabel come on over to the Holler to live, o’ course, bein’ Harry’s wife ‘n’ all. Right nice for all o’ us, too, cuz she gits takin’ over the musical edication o’ all them kids in the Holler. Had theyselves a dandy little set o’ twins to boot, which were a surprise all right, with ol’ Mabel thinkin’ she were just havin’ a right bad spell o’ indigestion that year.

You just know them twins was gonna be chirpin’ out notes purty durn quick, ‘n’ that’s just what they do, but they’s both so durn good it were a puzzle figurin’ how to keep on entertainin’ ‘em. They’s both playin’ any durn thing they can lay hands on. Then the boy gits him a invite for somethin’ or t’other down to Bascomb ‘n’ he see him a picture show ‘bout some big ol’ marchin’ band. Got to have him a tooba after that, which be some big ol’ horn goes wrappin’ ‘round a body.

Bein’ the imaginative type, he go on ‘n’ try to build hisself one, ‘n’ his sister, o’ course, be helpin’ him all this while. Oh, they build them a tooba outer pine cones, ‘n’ one outer rabbit pellets ‘n’ one outer bits ‘n’ pieces o’ who knows what. This yeller haired gal come up to teach the young’uns how to do them paypeeay mowshay critters what was filled with candy ‘n’ such, ‘n’ the Hoote twins even try buildin’ them a tooba outer that. Ain’t none of ‘em what that boy’s lookin’ for. It ain’t ‘til Miz Tyler gits her one o’ them new fangled frigerators what makes extry ice for mint juleps that them twins settle on somethin’ to build that tooba outer. Whatchacallit, that there styreefoam packed ‘round that fridge to keep it from gittin’ all banged up on the way to the holler.

It were a real hit. Don’t know what a actual tooba sound like, but this’n got a mighty fine tone what go awful nice with some bangin’ on a washboard. Kinda odd things to play, maybe, but they’s a real draw, ‘n’ it gits t’other kids thinkin’ up things as well. Mabel’s right fond o’ quotin’ the good book afore them shows the Holler’s kids give ever three months or so. “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord,” she say. All I gotta say is, once them Hootes ‘n’ Hollers gits goin’ the noise is somethin’ a body ain’t gonna forgit right soon, ‘n’ them kids is right joyful makin’ it.