When Tony Williamson was about 4, older brother Gary received a mandolin as a present from their father. Older brothers being older brothers, even 50 years ago, an order of "Keep your hands off, it's mine!" soon followed. Little brothers being little brothers, Tony didn't listen.

Gary ended up sharing, and before long, moved on to a guitar. Tony played the fire out of it and before long was standing on a soapbox in the living room, feeling like he was on top of the world, playing with adults during the picking sessions that were the only entertainment on the Williamson farm in Randolph County.

Today, many say the center of the mandolin universe is wherever Tony Williamson happens to be, be it Argentina, a pickin' parlor or his farm near Siler City, where he runs an online business, mandolincentral.com. There, he sells and swaps some of the finest stringed instruments in the world.

On a January Saturday night, he's playing a house party show put on by local roots-music promoters 40 Acres. Fans squeeze into every available space of the room as Tony and brother Gary, son Andy and friend Jim Watson swap old stories as they agree on a set list. Tony Williamson wears a UNC Tar Heels T-shirt under his sport coat, a reminder of his alma mater. He was on the way to becoming a professor or studying archaeology until he decided to take a one-year break from school after graduating.

That diversion turned into a three-decade trip to the top of the business, playing with such greats as Bill Monroe, Vassar Clements and Alison Krauss.

In Williamson's hand, the small mandolin does seem to sing and dance, moaning the sorrowful sounds of the Appalachians or fueling a hard-driving bluegrass song. Energy flows like lightning bolts through his whole body, down his arms and through his hands, both sets of fingers a blur on the strings.

On this night, Williamson moves beyond the sounds of bluegrass and old-time music as he jams with his college student son. Imagine rock star Dave Matthews crashing the Grand Ole Opry.

Pride beams from the faces of both as they play side by side, a long way but not too far from that old soapbox in the family living room.