Eternity in Our Hearts
by R.C. Sproul Jr.
Reviewed by Dakota Tremayne

At first glance, this book would have anyone scratching their heads. A man and his wife, resting in the shade of freshly baled wheat after a hard day's work. In beautiful flowing script, the title: Eternity in Our Hearts. Below it, the subtitle: Essays on the Good Life. From the front, it has all the appeal of a soft spoken devotional; a book of comforting words for the soul.

Turn the book over and the mood changes. Franklin Sanders gives a solemn warning to potential readers: Some of them might not like it. Whatever R.C. is writing about, he writes with strong conviction and bold language. He "takes on pop culture and pop Christianity and pop go the weasels." And yet this book is supposed to be "inspiring." Did some logic flunkie put this book together? Hardly. The method of communication R.C. uses to engage his audience is what I like to call "front porch theology." R.C. takes examples of life from every conceivable arena, slaps them up against the most important and unappreciated truths of God's Word, blends to perfection, and serves them straight from the tap. The result is a rich, dark ale to be enjoyed cold with grandpa on the front porch.

It truly is the good life. It is good because it is true; and the truth can be both easy and difficult to swallow simultaneously. It is good because it is given straight up, not blended or watered down, stripping it of its rich flavor. And it is so good at bringing life to the soul. R.C. tackles life. He takes everything from covenant children to NASCAR and critiques them, looking at them from all sides, stacking them together, knocking them down, weighing them against other thoughts and systems, laughing at them, crying with them, yelling, ranting, shaking his fist in fury, all in defense of the Kingdom of Christ. But lest anyone think that R.C. exhausts himself upon the pages of this book, take note: there is much more that he has said and written that is not fit to print. It is impossible to capture this man's passion for God in written form.

There is more of value by far to be gleaned from these pages than what is to be gathered from many a college textbook. But you won't find a cacophony of technical obfuscation droned from a stuffed-shirt professor behind some transparent plastic lectern. Reading this book is like being caught playing with matches by a godly southern momma. She starts by taking a chunk of the world out of your backside. Then she lovingly sets you in her lap, hugs you tightly and helps you pray for forgiveness. After a short talk on safety and obedience, she sends you out to the front porch, where your Father awaits, ready to guide you in the good life. So go quickly, 'cause He's got a nice cold beer waiting with your name on it.

Bluer than Blue
Ralph Blizard and the New Southern Ramblers (Fox Chase CD)
Reviewed by Jonathan Daugherty, the finest fiddler we know

About seven or eight years ago, I bought a cassette tape at a bluegrass festival in Owensboro, Kentucky. I had never heard of Ralph Blizard, but I bought the tape for the songs and tunes that were listed on the back of the box. For about two years, I listened to that tape more than any other recording while driving around. Every time my dad rode with me in my truck, he asked me who that was playing the fiddle on the tape. It was his fiddling on that recording which eventually prompted me to take up the old-time fiddle. It was not until soon after we had moved to Bristol, Virginia, from Ohio, that I learned that he lives in Blountville, Tennessee, only about ten miles from here.

Born into a musical family, H. Ralph Blizard was raised near Kingsport, Tennessee. His father played the fiddle and clawhammer style banjo and the family frequently hosted other musicians from the East Tennessee/Southwest Virginia region in their home. Ralph took up the fiddle as a boy and as a teenager formed a stringband called The Southern Ramblers. They played at dances and on local radio stations into the 1950s. Mr. Blizard laid down his fiddle when another call came his way, in order to raise a family and run a small farm.

After about twenty-five years, he picked up the old fiddle and began playing again. In 1982, he formed his current band, creatively named The New Southern Ramblers. The band includes Phil Jamison on guitar, Gordy Hinners on banjo, and John Herrmann on bass. Now eighty-two years old, Mr. Blizard continues to play concerts, workshops, dances, and at fiddle contests. He has won the fiddle contest in Union Grove, North Carolina so many times that they no longer allow him to compete, but they always want him to come back and play.

Please understand that this is not bluegrass music. This is what bluegrass always wanted to sound like. This is pure traditional Appalachian mountain folk music. Mr. Blizard is known for his creative bowing technique which is sometimes called "Appalachian Long-Bow," a style characterized by playing several notes on a single bow stroke. His unique improvisations are also well worth noting. In fact, his band members like to say that "he never plays a tune the same way once."

If you cannot make it here to hear him and his band live in the area, especially listen for these on this recording:

Carroll County Blues—Slow country blues tune done like only Ralph can
Bonaparte's Retreat—A traditional tune often played on the fiddle.
Same Old Man—A moderate paced dance tune, "Ladies step forward and the gents fall back."
Pig in a Pen—A "Tennessee love song"
Fiddler's Blues—The finest example of his playing.
Fox Chase—Push back the sofa and roll up the rug!