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A 911 Tale

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  A 911 Tale Earlier this week Michelle and I watched a film called American Folk, a rambling story of a young couple’s road trip across America during the 911 tragedy and their discovery of America’s strength and resilience through the power of song. Timid at first, gradually gaining confidence and insight as their music communicates the deep reverent feelings, we all experienced during those dark days after the towers fell.   American Folk is not a musical, the couple rarely sing a complete song, mostly short snippets of a familiar folk tune, or background music as they travel along on their journey.   But then I was suddenly listening to an old standard, Red River Valley, a song that was an old friend's favorite song.   She passed away over 30 years ago but hearing that song again brought back flood memories, so naturally, I wanted to learn more about the song and the couple who sang such a haunting rendition of this old American folk tune.   A quic...
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Gather around the piano

Gather around the piano Some of the fondest memories I have of my grandmother were those times she would gather us kids in the music room in their farmhouse in Vermont and play the piano as we would sing along with her as she played old familiar tunes.   The piano was a baby grand that use to belong to a relative who was a conductor, composer, and music teacher.   William LeRoy Raisch lived near the shore in New Jersey.   The piano had a companion who graced the music room with a permanent scowl, a bust of Beethoven.   Somehow, I ended up with Beethoven while my brother Bill ended up with the piano.   Maybe it was poetic justice that he got the piano, as it was his kids (4 boys) who pounded the keys so hard that most of the rare ivory keys were permanently damaged.   LeRoy also taught music for several years and his students included the offspring of FDR.   My brother also has a letter from the former president to LeRoy apologizing for the late p...
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Playing through chords

Wednesday, August 28, 2019 Beeker has taken to sleeping right next to my feet regardless of the hour, morning, noon and night. Yesterday, the 27 th I played my first 12 bar blues with my music teacher, Jimmy Kershaw.   Only a few minutes, he played lead and I played rhythm, then we traded back and forth a few times.   Maybe about 5 minutes as most.   Played in the key of  "A" using the pentatonic scale that he was teaching me. First blues as 74, what a hoot.   Learning to play through the chords, not just over them.   See, there are different ways to play a song using chords.  One way is to play the melody using the notes in the chords.  The other is to play the notes around the chord, the way jazz and blues musicians play songs.  Start out with the melody and once that is established, start to improvise by playing notes not necessarily associated with the melody or notes in the chords making up the melody. At the same time keepi...
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                             MY DAD WHISTLED My dad whistled.   For the life of me, I can’t remember the tunes he whistled, only that sometimes when he was in a good mood he would whistle while working around the house.   Having him around the house at the same time we kids were home and awake was not a common occurrence.   He worked shifts and would sometimes sleep all day. The times he worked nights and slept during the day the house was very quiet, and we would walk around on pins and needles afraid to wake him, afraid to hear him yell, “quiet”.   Sometimes he would come home at 4 in the afternoon, others at 8 in the morning. Sometimes he would be home for three days straight in the middle of the week.     As a small kid, it was hard to keep track of his odd working schedule, kind of confusing. So, when he was around the house and whistling, it was good.   You see ...
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Joni Mitchell on writing a song

 The other day I was browsing my YouTube files and came across a Joni Mitchell interview from a few years back.  There is so much I don't know about her, but back in the day I bought her albums and enjoyed her music.  I've since given those albums to my daughter-in-law Leah.  I miss them even though I don't listen to records anymore.  Sometimes it's nice to have things close by just in case you want to look or touch them and relive why you got them in the first place. The interview was long and expansive.  At one point the interviewer was drilling down on her songwriting. Joni was sitting on a couch, cigarette in hand, I didn't know she smoked so much, and she started talking about the Magdelena Laundries.  This is truly a dark tale, that shatters illusions about the country of Ireland, and a horrible chapter in its complicated history.  To make a long story short, you should do your own research about this tragic time, the laundries wher...
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The Old Guild

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Picture of the "Old Guild" taken about a year ago.  The guitar is about 55 years old.  Not sure of the exact date it was made, the inside label says the guitar was made at the old Guild shop in Hoboken New Jersey.  I acquired the guitar from a friend of mine Dale Miller, a Peace Corps buddy.  He sold it to me when we returned to the states after our service in Peru, which would have been sometime around November/December 1968.  He lived in Washington DC at the time, and I went down to visit him.  The guitar belonged to his brother who no longer wanted it, I was able to get it for $100.  Later during the visit, we went out and we bought the case, another $60 which I really didn't have, but Dale insisted we get the case. The guitar has been back and forth across the county a few times, took it to Canada when we visited back in the early '70s.  When we lived in Rehobeth Mass I used to hang it on the wall of the small cabin we lived in, of course,...
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Sunday Slow Jam

November 18, 2019 Yesterday while practicing a small miracle happened, at least it was magical to me.  I was improvising a blues riff, going up and down the neck on the old guild when it happened.  I was capo'd on the fifth fret, just for the hell of it, when all of a sudden, I played a real blues lick.  It was like a flash, and I said to myself, that was really cool, how did I do that.  I remembered what Jimmy used to say, don’t think about each move, just let your fingers play, and well, that’s what they did.  I tried to duplicate what I did, but to no avail, I just played notes up and down the neck.  Maybe someday I’ll do it again.  
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