Music, Music, Music.

Last night as I was entertaining the troops with some vintage songs from the 30s, 40s, and 50s, someone said to me (not one of our residents, this person just happened to be visiting someone and stopped by to listen)...."I suppose you've been teaching music your whole life!" Well, this was SO RIDICULOUS, I really had to laugh! "I'm afraid not", I said, "I had about ten lessons when I was a child, but I don't think that qualifies me as a music teacher". But, you know, I got to thinking about what a wonderful effect music has had on my life, and I recalled my First Musical Instrument that I could play a tune on....yes, even before the harmonica appeared in our house, which was a godsend to me. I wanted to make music so badly I could taste it.

So here's the tale of my very first instrument, made by my very own self when I was about six or eight, I suppose. I discovered that the green logs in the woodpile (cut to about maybe 18 inches long to fit in the firebox of the kitchen stove) rendered a distinct musical note if you struck them with a piece of metal, like a big spike or something. And the logs of varying sizes would ring out different tones. So I searched out the whole woodpile for logs that gave me the notes of the scale, you know....doh, re, me, fa, sol, la, ti, doh. And then arranged them on the ground in the appropriate row in front of me, and picked out HOME ON THE RANGE, just like a xylophone. I couldn't do much more than the one octave, but you could tell what the song was, believe it or not!

I think that was the first impetus that my parents felt that maybe here they had a child that could have some talent hidden away, and maybe...just maybe....they might have to provide some musical stimulus to further that talent. Of course, we didn't have any money, so the first instrument that was actually store-bought was a simple harmonica. Well, that was a breeze for me, I mastered it in no time, and my mother could play a few simple tunes on it, as well. The great day came when my dad, after practising for many months, rendered THE RED RIVER VALLEY on that mouthorgan....that was the only song he ever mastered. I guess we passed our germs onto each other, but we never developed any kind of dire disease, so It all worked out OK.

I rejoiced greatly when we bought an old pump organ at an auction sale, that was the one I had the 10 lessons on. My mom could play quite a number of the old hymns she had been raised with, and I too, simply delighted in picking out the tunes I knew that were played on the radio. Eventually, I was presented with a second-hand button accordeon....hey, same principle as the mouth organ, so soon I could play quite credibly on that. Then, when I reached my teens and went away to Kitscoty for high school, my folks bought me a piano accordeon. Ah, JOY TO MY WORLD! Can't remember if it was 12 bass or 24. But enough keys that allowed me much greater scope, so about then I started to play for country dances in the local school house, good old country-western music, mostly called "cowboy" songs in those days.

All during high school I played in our KHS band (I'll attach a picture of us all), we played for all the school dances, and we were OK I guess, but then our audience was pretty well a captive one, they couldn't get rid of us. In following years, when the war was on, I lived in Edmonton and was going to business school, still playing my accordeon along with the cook at the girls' home I lived at, she was a demon on the guitar and we entertained all the time, mostly ourselves! But we loved to make music and had a great time doing it. I remember her very well, her name was Norma. And about that time, somebody "discovered" me! (LOL) and I was recruited to entertain the soldiers and airmen at the local live theatre on Jasper Avenue, where lovely musical shows were put on every Sunday evening, and nobody had to be really professional, they didn't care. They would clap and whistle anyway.

And sometime during those years, I remember somebody phoning me from the University, some group was practising Ukrainian dancing, somebody could sing the tune of the song they wanted to use (I still remember it, it had a name that sounded like O HAHRA CARPATTA (Katya will know!...it meant the hills and valleys of the Carpathian Mountains or something like that. Anyway, they couldn't find the music to it and notbody was expert enough to write the notes out, they desperately needed somebody who played by ear, preferably an accordeon, to learn it by listening to it sung a couple of times. So I played for their practises and performance....that's all I remember about that.

Then I went north to Dawson Creek to work for 6 months for the U.S. Army. Most of the civilian personnel spent Sundays getting sloshed (sorry, not me, I wasn't into that stuff, Kristy), and then I would be called on to play for them to dance, sing, whatever. I remember one time I played a whole bunch of Scottish music for them, which I knew well, and could play quite adequately, and some so-called friend decided I needed to be wearing a tartan skirt since I was obviously a SCOT....and they took up a collection for me, (I was so embarrassed, but I couldn't stop them.) I was presented with $72 to buy a skirt for the next Sunday's performance. That was the first time I was ever paid for playing in public.

My next musical memory was pretty funny.....I had just joined the church and the music was mostly all new to me, and I fell in love with High On The Mountain Top. Jack and Jean were getting married in the United Church in Vermilion, and nothing would do but Sister Marion would play the organ. So I decided to play my new Mormon hymn (HOTMT) for the prelude music, 'cause if I got nervous and flubbed it up, nobody would know the difference. Well, so Jean was 10 minutes late coming up the aisle, and I played that blasted song OVER AND OVER AND OVER again, slow, faster, faster, slower, variations, ad infinitum. I'm sure everybody in the place knew that tune backwards and forwards by the time the wedding itself got underway.

Music definitely took a back seat when I was raising my kids, I don't think any of them appreciated me making music during all that long period of my life, they'd much rather listen to various musical curiosities like Def Leopard, Leonard Cohen (Linda was hooked on him for years), I can't remember much of the insane music my kids listened to and made such a fuss over, to me it was just a racket to be endured 24/7. So I didn't do much, except on occasion some kind of musical stuff at the church. It's only been the last few years of retirement that I have finally come into all the keyboard music, bringing to life again the old songs from my younger days....only to discover the seniors out there all know the same songs, if not the words, certainly the tunes. More than enough to feed my ego, and increase my skills immeasureably. And let's face it, I love to entertain my fans! both here in my lodge in Magrath, and in my last place at Evergreen in Calgary, I have experienced the joy of serving my fellow inmates by playing THEIR music for them and literally feeding on their praise and appreciation. My greatest fear is that my deafness will finally get the better of me, and I won't be able to hear the notes.....that will be a sad day for me. Meanwhile, MUSIC, MUSIC, MUSIC!

(jeff here, here's another band, with Mother on the harmonica).