John and Becky Arnett of West Liberty, Kentucky, made their way through Orlando International Airport and boarded the monorail that would ferry them to the departure lounges. Like a futuristic ride at nearby Disney World, the train glided past postcard views of manmade lakes and landscaped palm trees. It coasted to a stop, and a warning tone signaled the vehicle's computer-driven arrival. They began their trek down the long, carpeted corridor to the plane. Gate announcements, prefaced by the bleating of an electronic whistle, barked from the public address system. Between the clatter of messages and noises, a crescendo of forty concert violins and a xylophone streamed from the loudspeakers. For many of Orlando's air travelers, the melody recalled a well-known television commercial in which images of sizzling steaks and high-spirited fun flash across the screen. Throughout the spot, this musical arrangement plays beneath the gunmetal voice of Robert Mitchum telling a nation, Beef, it's what's for dinner.1 Becky listened to a few notes, pointed to the speakers overhead, and said, John, can't you hear it? That's Grandpa! That's Grandpa!2 In truth, Becky's grandfather, fiddler Bill Stepp, born in rural Kentucky twenty-five years before the close of the nineteenth century, is