You know what they say: “Expectation can only lead to disappointment.’ And by “they” I mean “any number of sources.” William Shakespeare, for example, wrote that “expectation is the root of all heartache,” while English poet Alexander Pope is quoted, “Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.” 

American writer Ann Patchett wrote that “disappointment comes from expectation”—words I assume she directly “borrowed” from the Buddhist philosophy that states, “Expectation can only lead to disappointment.” It is my understanding that this is where the concept originated, and is simply stated as a timeless truth. 

All that to say that it’s a phrase I reference somewhat often, either when making plans to take in a show, visit with old friends, or as was the case last week, check out an open mic night and my first street festival of the season. 

At present, I’ve formulated a somewhat loose plan to pop into a number of open mics, as they seem to proliferate during the warmer months, and there is no shortage of musical talent throughout the Upper Delaware River region. I began this tuneful journey fairly close to home, expecting to find a number of familiar musicians and singers at the Arts Nest in Lake Huntington, NY, and knowing that Kathy Geary, a performer in her own right, hosts an open mic there every Tuesday night from 6 to 8.

Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that Geary was on vacation, and in her place was congenial host/musician Scott Palermo, who can regularly be found doing just that at Palermo’s (no relation) Pizza in Lake Ariel, PA.

“Where’s Kathy?” I asked the dog, since she was the only one in the room that I recognized. “What’s going on here? Who are these people? This is not what I expected.”

Since my dog studies Buddhism in her spare time, she suggested that I “roll with the punches” (her words, not mine”), and taking her advice, I hauled out my camera, sat back, and enjoyed the guitar pickin’ honky-tonk vibe provided by the likes of Palermo himself, followed by good ole boys Jim Romeo, Nick Brodyn, Paul Ignelzi and Tom Cessors before Ray Gray surprised me with an a cappella version of Gram Parsons’ “Brass Buttons.” 

Honestly, all the guys were pretty great and it was refreshing (IMHO) to find myself in the midst of performers with whom I was heretofore unacquainted. Not only that, this particular group was incredibly supportive of each other, and the musicians listened attentively to their cohorts as one by one, they took the stage to showcase their particular brand of music. 

Just as I was becoming acclimated to being in a room full of folks I do not know, in walked song stylist extraordinaire Teri Paris, and Gidget became noticeably excited. Both my dog and I adore Paris and what she brings to the table: an ability to hold an audience in the palm of her hand as she explores timeless tunes culled from the Great American Songbook. After a brief unplanned (her words, not mine) rendition of “He’s a Tramp” aimed at my dog, Paris launched into a classic rendition of the Johnny Mercer/Richard Whiting tune “Too Marvelous for Words,” which was written in 1937 and made famous by dozens of artists over the years. My advice? Go see and hear Teri Paris. You won’t be disappointed.

Yet another unexpected performer was Masha Sokol, with whom I was unfamiliar, but plan to follow from this point on. Host Palermo introduced her by saying that he was thrilled to be doing so and as he promised, she was just plain incredible, wowing the crowd (and me) with her powerhouse vocals and impressive skills with the guitar. As she belted out a couple of songs, I just assumed they were top-10 hits that I simply didn’t recognize, but was astonished to learn that Sokol was performing original material. Before taking a bow, Sokol was joined onstage by her husband Chris Castro, who also performed one of her songs, and both mom and dad were then upstaged by their three-year-old daughter Mila, who stole all of our hearts, including that of the dog. Quite the family affair. Dear Masha: “American Idol” is calling. Please pick up the phone.

A few days later, I once again packed up the camera gear and tossed my dog (she’s fine) into the car for a visit to Callicoon, NY, and Ramp Fest 2026—a town-wide celebration of what the Google describes as a “highly seasonal, wild-foraged edible perennial (aka allium tricoccum) in the onion family.” 

Often called wild leeks, and native to North American forests, ramps appear “briefly in early spring” and have a “pungent, garlicky, onion-like flavor.” 

Ramps can be eaten raw or cooked, and there are a number of ways to use them, including sautéed or grilled, made into pesto and sauces, paired with scrambled eggs, and added to soups, not to mention pickled, preserved and baked into quiches, cakes, breads and pies. 

I can’t eat them (ask Dr. Man Bun) but many healthy people can, and hundreds flocked to Callicoon to enjoy a day filled with talks and demos, a ramp-baking contest, an embroidery workshop, a wild-ramp kids’ tent and ramp specials offered throughout the town from businesses such as Seminary Hill to the Wine Merchant and every place in between. Gidge and I strolled, schmoozed and took pics while visitors and neighbors sampled savory treats. Musicians I actually recognized entertained at the Depot under beautiful blue skies, as the aroma of kettle corn wafted through the crowd. I don’t think the corn was popped with ramps, but I don’t eat that either (although Dr. Man Bun thinks “it’s fine”), but it all sure smelled good and the bake-off held inside the Black Walnut Mercantile looked amazing. Cathy Detweiler’s “Rampalicious” ham-and-cheese pie took first place and although I couldn’t taste it (thanks, Doc!), it looked and smelled amazing. 

All in all, Ramp Fest was everything I hoped it would be, and Gidge I look forward to all the festivals about to hit the streets across the region with “aucune attente.” That’s French for “no expectations.” You know, cuz I’m Mr. Fancy Pants. At least, that’s what Dr. Man Bun calls me.

For more pics of the Arts Nest open mic and RampFest 2026, like us on Facebook and see our photo gallery at www.riverreporter.com.

Fun Fact: The Great American Songbook is the loosely defined “canon of significant 20th-century American jazz standards, popular songs and show tunes”—Wikipedia