There is a (somewhat) secret society among western North Carolinians. It’s been around since about 1976 and enjoys a cult-like appreciation of a self-described “hillbilly hippy folk singer” who once lived in our midst. His name is Mike Cross and for years he delighted music lovers with an incredible mix of musicianship, philosophy and humor on record (yes, non Boomers, record) that made us loyal followers.
Photo: The Hillbilly Hippy Folk Singer
Born in Maryville, Tennessee in those early Boomer days, Mike’s family moved to Lenoir, where he spent his formative years growing up. He then headed off the Chapel Hill for a real education. In those days, his passion was golf. But something happened that changed his trajectory. The story goes that he got snowed in at a friend’s dorm room, picked up the guitar and his professional life was determined.
It seems Mike had a bit of Mark in him. Twain, that is. He began writing bits of wisdom, both serious and silly as he learned not only the six-string, but the fiddle as well. As a self taught player, he gave himself an education beyond anything the flagship university could offer. From there he recorded and toured and built this society into a legion of devotees who delighted in each album and live show, which he mostly performed as a solo. The hillbilly hippy folk singer captivated.
He once said that when he landed in the frozen north to perform, the folks in Minnesota saw the grits flying from his mouth as he spoke and asked him to sing about the two sacred subjects for which the mountains of the Tarheel state are known, moonshining and incest. He declined to sing on the first, calling it too sacred (though he has tunes about that too), choosing the latter, serenading them with “Elma Turl.” It’s one of the humorous ones.
There are a lot of songs like it in his repertoire including “The Lord’ll Provide” “Whiskey Fore’ Breakfast” and perhaps his most famous ditty about the male anatomy of a drunken Scotsman. After all, it was the 70s and we were of the generation stretching the bounds of permissiveness.
Another tune that became a single and a regional hit was “Nobby,” the story of a pimp who sings “Come on girls lets work for Nobby. Let’s make hay while the street lights shine.” Irreverent? Yeah, but a classic hymn in this secret society that regards Mike Cross an absolute wonder. Like all of us, he eventually grew up and wrote on more mature subjects but his catalogue of tunes stands as an amazing testament to what an individual can do when tapping into musical creativity and skill.
Mike entertained a lot of fans until somewhere in the 21st century he came down with a tick-borne disease that took him off the road, much to the society’s disappointment. In 2023, his wife and concert sound engineer passed after enduring her own mystery disease. He has our deepest condolences. As of this writing, Mike performs no more.
However, I can guarantee membership into the society of Mike Cross fans if you check out his music. He has 14 albums to his credit including a greatest hits package, subtitled “Best of the Funny Stuff.” If you need something to cheer you up this Valentine’s Day, start by Youtubing a few and let Nobby be your Valentine.
