The Island Hopper: Friday night festival feeling at the Bean

I have freshly returned from my twice-annual camping trip/music festival along the Suwannee, in the gorgeous Spanish moss-laden woods of Live Oak.

Regular readers (and if you aren't, why aren't you?) will know this means several things:

A. I am somewhat less fresh and hygienic than (I swear) is normal for me. Four days in a tent fighting for a handful of communal shower stalls with 6,000 others does tend to foster a certain — shall we say — pungency.

B. I am exhausted. I slept too little and danced too much. I have lost my voice and the bags under my eyes would do a septuagenarian proud.

Are you eager to jump onboard the festival circuit yet? But wait — there's more. I also met wonderful people whose paths I might never have crossed otherwise. There are Randi and Chris, who run IndoCrafts (www.indocrafts.com), a purveyor of beautiful "hippie" clothes, jewelry, tapestries and more, and bring a vending tent to the festival every year. They're always thrilled to see familiar faces, welcoming and warm.

There was the entire camp of what we have always referred to as "the Dunedin Brewery people"— the folks who own and run that handcrafted beer pub/restaurant on the west coast of the state, and welcome all comers into their friendly camp with smiles, hugs and one of a dozen specially brewed beers they have brought in a huge meat refrigerator.

There was Chris Miller, a crack sax player from Fort Myers who jams in with Blueground Undergrass whenever he comes to their gigs. So far, I've seen him invited onstage with the band at the festivals, the Bamboo Room in Lake Worth, and Skippers Smokehouse in Tampa (the latter where the proprietors proudly boast, "We smoke everything!").

At Magnolia Fest and its March cousin, SpringFest, folks feel like old friends, though you see them only twice a year for one weekend. There are a lot of festival regulars and it's like a family reunion when you run into someone you've seen at festival for four or five years running.

And if that's not enough to entice you to check out some kind of music festival and see what I'm talking about (find a bunch at festivalfinder.com and festivals.com), there are still more fantastic side effects. I am also richer by several CDs of artists you won't hear on local radio stations. I saw some completely impromptu jams that made my heart feel like it would explode with joy — musical moments that will never be repeated just that way, because of the improvisational nature of the sets. (Thank you, Joe Craven and Bobby Lee Rodgers and Peter Rowan and, always, Donna the Buffalo.)

And one of the best things about festival, in my book, is sitting or dancing as you listen to this unbelievable music — there isn't a haphazard musician in the entire lineup — with stars or blue sky overhead, your toes in the grass, surrounded by trees and like-minded, happy people, and some of the sweetest sounds you've ever heard.

So I was thrilled beyond measure when I finally got off my booty and into my car last week to check out the Friday-night bluegrass jam at the Bean coffeehouse in North Naples. When I miss that festival feeling, it's good to know that guitar player (and luthier) Scott Ritter and company are keeping it going in Southwest Florida.

Half a dozen local musicians in our ever-growing bluegrass/Americana scene here have touted the jam to me before. Though it started about five years ago in the same location by the popular area band Welcome Home, the bluegrass baton passed to Ritter when some of the band members moved away.

They call themselves "the Bean Pickers" — Ritter and any of several musician friends who are free from week to week. This past Friday, Linda Kallinger played fiddle and mandolin and took occasional lead singing duties in her pretty, delicate voice.

Leslie Weidenhammer rounded out the "official" lineup that night, playing bass guitar and throwing her solid vibrato into the vocals. And Ritter — a man who can play some serious guitar — takes his turn on the mike with his appealing, just-folks vocals.

But as the evening lengthened, people carrying telltale cases started trickling in through the thrown-open glass sliders at the front of the coffee shop. Roli Scholl (of the Sawgrass Drifters) stepped onto the tiny stage area carrying his Dobro, adding a twangy richness to Love Please Come Home and the occasional solo to the rest of the eclectic musical lineup, which may range from classic bluegrass to swing, folk, Celtic, or even blues or Spanish tunes.

The crowd of obvious regulars greets each guest musician by name (and often applause, perhaps even hugs). But the sizable audience isn't a casual, socializing group — they're there for the music, which you'll quickly figure out by the pin-drop silence as soon as the band cranks things up.

With the whole front of the restaurant thrown wide open, surrounded by friendly music lovers, and hearing some of our area's most skilled musicians pickin' together, it's about as close to festival spirit as you're going to get.

The Bean Pickers jam at the coffeehouse/restaurant night from 7 to 10 p.m. every Friday (8803 U.S. 41 N.; 594-0088). And if you're up that way on a Saturday night, check out guitar player Mike Blasucci and friends — "They cook!" Ritter touts.