Bluegrass in his veins

TWIN FALLS, Idaho – To call David Butler unique doesn’t quite cover it.

He describes himself as “a real cowboy.” His mom says he really loves Western wear.

“He wore out a pair of cowboy boots before he was even 3,” says Debbie Butler, his mother. She says it was hard to find anything else that interested him, until she introduced him to the kind of music real cowboys like: bluegrass.

“A couple of years ago, I started him on the fiddle, then came the mandolin, and then he acted interested in the accordion,” she said.

Interested he was. He taught himself to play in a few weeks. Now, the 17-year-old plays about a half-dozen instruments and sings in front of his house most afternoons for an audience of squirrels and neighbors and the occasional car driving by on Fillmore Street.

He stands behind a homemade sign of torn-out cardboard that reads, “Butler’s Blue Grass Boy.”

“A lot of people drive by and wave and talk to me,” he says. “The neighbors really love it – except for one who thinks it’s a nuisance, but she’s 80 years old.”

But Butler’s performances aren’t what they seem.

He has severe hearing problems and wears two hearing aids. He says playing outside is the only way he can practice, because acoustics in the house make it hard for him to hear.

Outside, everyone, including the teen, can hear each pluck, strum and note. Butler yodels, too.

His music can be heard about two blocks away. He sings into a homemade “microphone,” fashioned out of an old soup can and a stick.

“I can hear him before I see him,” said neighbor Kris Etcheverry. She lives a few houses down and has a child who likes to ride a bike on the same sidewalk Butler stands on.

David’s musical expressions have become just another part of life for the Etcheverry family. Sometimes, she says, when she warms up her car in the morning, David is already out there, yodeling and playing an instrument or three. He has an extensive repertoire of songs, both classics and pieces he’s written. And all of them are memorized. He doesn’t know how to read music.

“He loves music, and I think this is just his way of sharing his talent with the world,” Etcheverry said.

This particular afternoon he is in full cowboy attire, from the hat to the Western shirt, right down to the boots. He’s sporting pins from the Old Time Fiddlers, which he is a member of, and Gem State Fiddlers, as well as pins for cowboy poetry and patriotism.

He has photos of his relatives – country and bluegrass legends Bill Monroe and Patsy Cline – taped to his mandolin case. David was adopted as a baby, and says he found out about his famous relatives when he was 14. It inspired him, and that’s why he keeps practicing. He wants to be a great bluegrass musician, just like them.

But the music doesn’t just give David a purpose; it gives him an identity and a sense of therapy for the hurdles in his life. He doesn’t want to talk about all of his obstacles, though he writes songs like “My last day on Earth” about them. The song doesn’t have a single word, but the intricate plucking is both moving and honest. This is a kid who deals with more than his share of problems, but still finds a reason to sing. A lot.

“He has it hard,” his mom said. “And it seems like it helps him.”

“He’s a good kid with a great heart, and he just wants to entertain,” Etcheverry said.

And he does nearly every afternoon for an audience of squirrels and neighbors and the occasional car driving by on Fillmore Street.