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When Bob Sima opens his mouth to sing, what comes out is beyond the human sounds of a warm and soulful voice, yep, there’s more. A story, a nudge, a reminder, an angle on something very familiar you probably have never considered. A poet, observer, scribe, sometimes reluctant healer all bundled up into one singing songwriting bundle of energy so tapped in…he kinda needs a glass. His right hand slaps the guitar in a seemingly casual fashion, usually in rhythm with all of the toes in the room. Bob lives in “rural” Maryland, high on a hill, under the stars, and he is usually gazing upward.