I’ve heard of folks celebrating their 50th birthday by going out and buying a fancy vehicle or a motorcycle, or taking a trip around the world. For me, all I wanted was a good ol’ fashioned jam session. For those not in the know of rock ‘n’ roll vernacular, a “jam session” is where a bunch of musicians get together and, for lack of a better way of putting it, just have fun.  For the last 35 or so years, there has been a group of local musicians who have had their own little fraternity of sorts, even though most of them played in different bands and, as a result, didn’t play with each other very often if ever.  Even so, there was always a lot of shared respect.  And for me, that respect was planted very early. As a young guitarist here, there were four local musicians I placed particularly high on the rock god pedestals.  Ray Herndon, better known as “Ray Dog,” and Jamie Hunter played together in “Buckshot.” In their duo, Jamie was the cake and Ray was the icing. They both played lead and rhythm — with flair and taste. Ray’s Les Paul had a huge influence on what I considered to be a good-sounding electric. When they traded lead parts, I was simply in awe of them.  Kenny McVay was the lead guitarist for “Metcalf,” and his cutting Stratocaster tone and showmanship were very distinctive and impressive to my budding tastes. He always carried himself with so much pinache in his knee-high moccasin boots that I was honestly intimidated by him.  And Mitchell Moore was the bassist of bassists. He not only played left handed, but he played a right-handed bass turned upside down. Seriously. His musicality and stage presence was the high-water mark for any other bass player I ever heard.  Of course, there were others. Tommy Griffin, Gene Carlton, Wayne Gainous, Danny Woods  and John Rogers were all band mates, and all had their influence along the way.  So for my 50th birthday, I invited all of them to get together and just jam. I really had no idea how many would come. After all, some of them have never once played together.  As it turned out, almost all of them came (Gene, an inspiration to all middle-aged men with a 1-year old son, couldn’t find a babysitter) and gathered at Tony Herring’s home in Boston. John Clark and Chris “The Maestro” Hall — who can play most any instrument as well as anyone I know — provided the PA equipment.  After a short powwow to try to get a songlist together, we jumped into it. My acoustic guitar compatriot, Chip Bragg, dropped by, so we did a couple of our acoustic songs. We were joined onstage by 13-year-old Marion Rose, who added the new Kid Rock verses to our classic version of “Sweet Home Alabama.”  I looked around and realized I was surrounded by Mitchell on bass, Ray and Jamie on guitar, Tommy on drums, Chris on keys, my daughter on vocals and guitar, and Chip on guitar as well, who, oh by the way, also helped bring Marion Rose into the world.  Cool doesn’t quite grasp the essence of the moment for me.  Then, with the next song, Danny, who was in the first band I ever played in as a sophomore at Central, and Kenny joined us for “Dreams I’ll Never See.” Felix Atkinson, another local legend, sat in on the drums.  So I looked around again, and here I was flanked by McVay and Herndon — and I was playing lead guitar alongside them for the first time ever.  Everyone switched on and off through the night as best we could. David Burke, our bassist from The Skinks who has been fighting cancer the last year or so, dropped by to do a few songs and show off his 12-string bass ± yes, that was a 12-string bass. Jamie Majors, who still plays actively with the band Eli, sat in on drums.  We could’ve stayed out there all night playing but, alas, we aren’t as young as we were 30 years ago. The next day I got messages from most of the guys ranging from “That was epic!” to “When’s the next one?” to “Every bone in my body hurts.” Someone counted nine bands represented through the evening. We played for almost four hours with absolutely no rehearsals beforehand. When it was over, we didn’t take pictures of each other. We took pictures of each other’s instruments.  Call it our “extended family photos.” Many talented musicians have come from Thomasville and Thomas County and remain here yet. It humbled me that so many of them in my experience came to be a part of my 50th birthday jam. We need to do it again soon, and maybe use the event as a fundraiser for a local charity.  Regardless, as one who is proud to be counted among their fraternity topped the proverbial hill and now sees the downhill slope, for one evening the sun, moon and stars aligned to bring many of them together, and this now 50 year old once again felt that old sense of awe.  And, for a few hours, was 14 one more time.