April 1st is called April Fool’s Day for a reason.  I have proved this many times over.  And it’s not just April 1st.  It’s the whole month.  For example, the common stove.  This can be a very dangerous machine, if you haven’t noticed.  Recently I was in my normal (daily) cooking mode when strange things began to happen.  I took a tray of buns out of the oven and happened to reach for a thinner hot pad, rather than the usual thicker one.  Consequently, the heat transferred immediately to my right (grabber) hand which then tilted to the left.  My left hand (no pad) then, reflexively, steadied the pan to prevent a spill and lift the pan to the top of the stove which, I had forgotten, was almost covered with uneven pots and pans busily cooking various foods.  So, while toasting my left hand, I turned and dropped the buns on the only small space open on the counter top.  Simultaneously, one of the other pans on top of the stove started boiling over, so I scooted it to the back burner, which caused the hairs on my right hand to be burnt, causing that unpleasant smell that should never be in a kitchen.  Unfortunately, as I scooted the one pan, it nudged another pan, causing it to spill some of its contents on the top of the stove and onto the floor. This caused another unpleasant burning smell not uncommon to kitchens, but still unwelcome. All of this was compounded when one of our cats nonchalantly brushed by my legs and distracted me from the smells and the spills.  This caused me to move enough to step into the spill on the floor, and while slipping… I sneezed.

None of this is possible under normal circumstances, but, it was an April Fool’s Day, and, you guessed it… I was “it.”  I was the the fool or the joker or the butt of some kind of cosmic joke.  I didn’t know what hit me!  Cooking is not supposed to be “life threatening!”  And this is just the stove we are talking about.  What if you were playing in a symphony orchestra, or dancing on a stage, or driving on a freeway, or on a roller coaster or a waterslide, or on a boat to Catalina, or just taking a nap?  The possibilities boggle the mind.  And this is normal everyday living, not an earthquake or a tornado.  Things like this are not supposed to happen under normal circumstances.  But, April, obviously, is not a normal month.

I suppose we all can look to the other eleven months for normalcy if we must, but we are probably still fooling ourselves into another false belief.  That life is normal.

Life is NOT normal under any set of circumstances.  We go to great lengths to prove that it is, but we are just wasting our time.  It will never be.  We all make plans.  We map out routes, schedules, routines, and projections, but there is always something little that gets in the way.  Roadwork, sickness (ours or someone else’s), and at least a zillion other possibilities that are lurking in the shadows, to appear when you least expect them.  What April teaches us is to embrace these unexpected circumstances.  To expect them and even try to enjoy them, or at least to see the humor that is usually present if you look for it.

When you really think of it, MUSIC itself is not normal.  Frequencies happily flow at certain levels and rates without interruption until something gets in their way.  And that something, or someone, is usually the musician.  We have taken frequencies and divided them into arbitrary increments.  We have then made them do weird and unnatural things to reflect our own moods.  We collect batches of them and isolate them into tracks, and the tracks into various sized collections.  The infinite possibilities built into these frequencies have now been pared down and squished into a fraction of what they were just so we can understand them and deal with them on a daily basis.  This has become normal for us.

We have done the same thing with our universe, both macro and micro.  Everything is compared to our earth, which is not even a quantum of a fraction of the known universe just so we can try to understand it and also manipulate it.  We also do the same thing with our Creator (but I refuse to go there)…!  So what is our conclusion?  That we are constantly “April Fooling” ourselves just to get a handle on enough things to be able to make it through our lives.  Not bad!  It seems to work.  But is it normal…?

March is supposed to come in “like a lion,” and go out “like a lamb,” or come in “Like a lamb,” and go out “like a lion.”  I’m not sure that any of this applies any more.  March is both winter and spring and summer, depending where you are in the country,  and everything in between.  At the very least, it seems to begin a calming trend in the weather, even if there is a last blast of winter toward the end of the month.  Not being sure about what to expect next brings an element of excitement to this transitional month.

My experience in playing night  clubs in the sixties was very similar.  Playing in the house band meant being ready for almost anything, musically speaking.  Monday’s rehearsal meant becoming familiar with the music of one or two or even three different acts which could be a singer, or singers, dancers, animal acts, comedians, magicians, hypnotists, etc.  Like the month of March, this became its own brand of excitement.

In Kentucky, just across the Ohio river, there were two clubs that were really nice and classy:  the “Lookout House,” and the “Beverly Hills.”  Both of these were beautiful venues which brought in acts like Rosemary Clooney, Mel Torme, Frankie Laine, etc. They were fun to play, and made me feel like I was connecting to a bit of music history.  Eventually, both of these clubs burnt down under mysterious circumstances.  I’m sure that economics played a large part in their demise.  Unfortunately.

In Cincinnati, the main venue was Cincinnati Gardens.  There I played acts like Sonny & Cher, James Brown, Engelbert Humperdink, and several different companies of Ice Shows like Ice Capades and Holiday on Ice.  Also circuses and rodeos, both of which, in my opinion are better played outside.  Inside, the air gets rather “close.”

In Dayton, I played at a German dinner/restaurant called Suttmiller’s.  This was a large club, seating 500 people for dinner and a show.  I never figured out how they transitioned from one dinner/show to the next, moving that many people.  Also, this was in the sixties when smoking was still ubiquitous and it could get difficult to see the music because of the indoor clouds.  Thankfully, things are much healthier now, but then, most of these clubs are now gone.  A lot of the acts that came to Dayton were there to break in their songs, routines, etc, before opening in New York or Las Vegas or Los Angeles.  I was proud to be in a house band that could read anything that was written down, and a lot of things that were not.  We were constantly proofing.  It has become a lifelong habit.  This club featured act like: Lou Rawls, Carol Lawrence, George Carlin, Joan Rivers, Professor Irwin Corey, Johnny Desmond, The Diamonds, etc, etc.  Too numerous to list.

This too is almost gone.  There are very few clubs left now that have live name singers, comic, dancers, etc, in an intimate setting with good food and a safe, smokeless atmosphere.  Catalina’s in Hollywood is one of the few left.  We are in the habit of seeing Steve Tyrell one or two times a year when he is in town.  To me it’s a lot like going back in time.  Check it out sometime.  And if you are lucky enough to be near a place that features good entertainment, all I can say is: Rejoice!  And consider yourself very fortunate.  Music that has melody is not dead, it’s just temporarily dormant, or maybe in hibernation.  We can always count on one constant in music taste and style: it will change!  Not always to what we would prefer, but change nevertheless.  So, “Don’t worry, be happy!”

This February has been especially brutal for those living in the midwest and all the way to the east coast.  The jet stream has forced the cold, arctic blasts more frequently into the whole area.  There has been a lot of snow and resultant power outages, and eventually there will be flooding to look forward to when the snow and ice finally thaws.  A messy and unpleasant situation.  And more to come, if you believe the groundhog’s prediction. In contrast, the western part of the United States has been pleasantly mild so far this winter.  Just thinking of the problems in the east brings back many memories of my life there for twenty some years.

As a professional trombone player, I lived in Middletown, but, in order to work, I had to drive to Dayton, Cincinnati or across the river to Kentucky.  In all weather.  It didn’t matter what the weather report said.  I just got in my car and left for the job, no matter where it was.  Ahhh youth,  when we are immortal  (and, for the most part, clueless).  When I first started driving, my cars were junkers.  Stripped down.  Bald tires.  Temperamental when it came to starting the motor, etc.  You get the picture.  I remember far too many nights after a job, in another city, when everyone else had gone, still trying to get the car to start without flooding it  (at which time there was an even longer wait).  I’m not sure to this day whether it was the curse words or the prayer that finally got the car to start.  (Hallelujah)!

When I started working at a club in Dayton called Suttmiller’s (a theater restaurant that seated about 500 people), I finally, with a little help, was able to get a brand new car that would start when you needed it to start.  With this car, I traveled thousands of miles up and down Route 75 for many years in all kinds of weather without any problems.  And, I never had snow tires or chains.  The car was a Corvair,  which had the motor in the rear of the car, and the trunk in the front.  To balance this, I put a few cement blocks in the front trunk and traveled through ice, snow, black ice, sleet, and freezing rain with never a problem on the road.  Whenever possible, though, I followed salt trucks, especially late at night.  A lot slower, but a lot safer.

The only other difficult part was coming out of a job and finding my car covered with ice or snow, or both, and having to clean it off before being able to think of driving.  Actually, you first start the car, then turn the heat up full blast, and then start cleaning off the ice and snow as they start melting.  The other indispensable item is anti-freeze in your car.  I would usually also contain my own anti-freeze from playing a dance where the booze was flowing freely.  (another dangerous thing about being young and stupid).  But I was lucky, or maybe had an overactive guardian angel.  Whatever it was, it allowed me to be here now.  And I am grateful for that.

Weather and music seem to go together in some weird way.  And music and booze (or whatever) seem also to be linked in some weird way.  These were the days when the music for dances and parties and proms, etc, was “live.”  You didn’t even have to say it then because the music for these things was always live.  The only exception was the “sock hop” in the gymnasium.  A lot of the time a record player with a stack of 45’s was used. Also a lot of fun in those days.  Now I think that this probably was the forerunner of the DJ who would eventually take over and do away with live music altogether.  A very sad state of affairs for all musicians.

I really hope that live music recovers from this downturn, and once again lives to generate excitement in a very personal way as I and many others of my generation enjoyed it.  It could happen…!

Once again I have conveniently forgotten to make my New Year’s resolutions.  But, I have instead become a bit more introspective.  I tend to do this anyway when I read a newspaper.  So much that is news is depressing and eventually leads to ignoring the news for a while in order to gain back some perspective and sanity.  So instead of resolutions, this year I have collected some observations.

First of all, I have noticed that in the real world as depicted in the newspapers and the media in general, there are good people and there are bad people.  Somewhere in the middle is where most people reside.  Neither all good nor all bad, but slightly tainted by both sides.  Being human will cause this to occur.

There are many forces which will gradually guide us to one side or the other, and these influences, whether strong or weak, determine the direction that our lives take.  They are usually subtle and take hold so gradually that we don’t know we are either hooked or in control of our lives until much later in life.  They keep growing and attaching (bad), or reinforcing and supporting (good), for the rest of our lives.  To offset these influences, we thankfully have choices which we can make, or not.  When we make them, our choices must be very strong and definite in order to hold to one direction or the other, and, if we are to survive, we all need support (by friends), and strength of character (developed by wise choices).

When we look back at any age along our life’s journey, we find that it has been a series of choices (both good and bad) affected by outside influences, and causing us to either change direction or to resist a change of direction.  Changing direction can be either bad or good, and mistakes can be made, but these mistakes can be corrected at any time.  This is what requires the most strength in our character.  Recognizing whether change is good or bad is difficult, but not insurmountable.  Our tendency is to resist change, but a static existence is also bad when it stunts our growth, either physically or spiritually.  Both resting or moving are important, but it is far better to grow and correct our course occasionally than to just float aimlessly with no direction and no goals.

Music has participated in this process for centuries at a time.  In ancient times there was mostly rhythm.  The Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, etc, had rhythm and rudimentary strings, brass and woodwinds.  In Europe during the Renaissance and onward, there were traveling actors and musicians, trouveres, troubadours, madrigal groups, and the refinement of the orchestra.  In this country the birth of jazz started the break with European musical traditions which originated in the blues, and became the basis for most of the popular music we now recognize.

And most of this musical tradition was associated with both bad and good.  There had to be music for saloons and bars, speakeasies and brothels, which were associated with outlaws, gangsters and gambling right through the present day.  There were also dance halls, concert halls, hotels, and restaurants which provided a more tame, romantic and melodic type of music.  There were choices for the musician, dancer and listener, including church music which has survived numerous changes of style.

So for this New Year, I will be glad that we all have choices to guide us in our growth and journey through life no matter what our age or situation.  Let us all use them wisely! ………. (and either “Rock on” or “Praise on.).

There is something incongruous about the Christmas season and its various themes when you are living in 80 degree weather.  Nothing really fits, so you have to do a mental transition that will help you to accept the proximity of snow and ice and hot temperatures. We trick our minds so that Santa and his sleigh and the north pole, etc., work.  Decorations help.  The tree with icicles, frosted ornaments, snow scenes, and prints by Currier & Ives all help to cement the illusion. Gradually the mind begins to accept these images, and the Spirit of the Christmas season starts to take over.  Music adds another dimension, talking of snow and winter weather, sleigh rides, snowmen, and frosted window panes.

All of this used to start after Thanksgiving, which was the official start of the Christmas season.  It worked for many decades.  The transition was from Halloween (celebrating fall and a successful harvest), to Thanksgiving (expressing our gratitude for the plenty stored away for the winter), to Christmas (the birth of Christ, and the advent of Santa and gift giving).  All of this used to take place gradually, season to season, with no rush.  Until the growth of the department store and consequently, the birth of advertising.  In the beginning, the theme of each season and its reasons for buying within each theme were presented separately, usually with a slight break between each.  Then, gradually, the seasons started growing together with various sales and enticements to keep up the rhythm of buying and gift giving.  Then the seasons started to overlap, and now we have Halloween transitioning right into Christmas with decorations, music, etc.  Thanksgiving has become a mere blip on the screen of sales, and is almost taken over by shopping mania. First the day after, and now the day “of” with the whole weekend becoming its own shopping holiday.  Why is this?  One reason is that the survival of the retail brick & mortar store is at stake.  Online shopping is taking over with its ease of purchase, and “no hassle” shopping.  It is now a battle of numbers.  Reality shopping versus digital.  Why not let UPS and FedEx do the moving through traffic and deliveries?

The result is beginning to become obvious.  The meaning of our very special holiday season is weakening, waning, if not disappearing.  Spirituality is in real danger of morphing into a cartoon-like existence.  Superficiality and glitz are taking over with instant gratification making it seem like we are actually living in a reality-produced commercial.  There is a smooth, effortless, relentless sliding from Halloween to the New Year.  And, “Is everybody happy?”  Sure, if you don’t mind all that the spiritual reformers have taken away from us:  The manger, angels, Nativity scenes, Wise Men, prayers of thanks, or any kind of prayer, etc.  And the question becomes: Is it possible to retrieve the soul of our holiday season?  Are we willing or even able to do so?

Yes, we can!  By remembering how special and deep are the roots of our symbols which are based on faith, hope and love.  And by realizing that something as small as a nucleus or a single cell can grow to astronomical proportions and take over the world.  It happened once before in Bethlehem, and it can happen again.  Prayer, whether sung or spoken, unites and builds and binds cohesively.  We have only to remember to use it – regularly and with purpose.  Music has the ability to magnify thoughts and ideas.  It also is the cement that can bind these thoughts and ideas.  Use it  – regularly and wisely and with purpose!

During each November, for as long as I can remember, I have thought of food, home, family and friends.  Not necessarily in that order.  And all of these seem to connect to the Thanksgiving Holiday.  The situations may change,  place to place or family to family, but the feelings about the holiday itself are much the same.

When I was young, we always went to my maternal grandmother’s house for a Thanksgiving meal of Pennsylvania Dutch style cooking.  Even now the sight and smell of the heavily laden table are very clear to me.  The hustle and bustle of the kitchen, and the organized confusion are still very real.  And the unspoken “either help out or stay out of the way.”  It was and is still fascinating to me.  I’m surprised that I didn’t become a chef.

I don’t remember ever going to my paternal Hungarian grandmother’s house for Thanksgiving, although there were many other times throughout the year that we were invited for dinner.  Chicken Paprikash was a favorite of everyone.  Actually, there were a lot of dishes “paprikash.”  The Hungarian meals were in general fairly spicy.  My grandmother grew  peppers of all kinds which were dried in long rows hanging on the cellar walls.  Then these were ground up into a powder or flakes and used in cooking or as condiments.  Her chicken yard provided a lot of meals with chicken, duck, goose, turkey, etc;  practically anything besides the old tough rooster who doubled as an alarm clock at dawn every morning.  My grandmother’s garden was a good part of an acre lot.  In it were a corn field, and rows of many varieties of vegetables, fruit trees, and vines of berries adorning the fences.  When these ripened and were harvested, she canned a lot of the fruits and vegetables.  These were delicious and convenient in the dead of winter.

Pennsylvania Dutch cooking, on the other hand, being German, was less rustic and more mild, at least in my experience.  The Thanksgiving table then was almost as standard as it is today but with more variety, and much more quantity.  That being the case, I felt that it was my personal duty to cut a large swath through the menu.  I was always the subject of amazement as to the amount of food that I could devour.  Consequently, I was usually the last person sitting at the table, and, astoundingly, this never caused me any of the gastric problems that I would now experience.  While everyone else took a nap or got reacquainted, I would curl up under a table somewhere with a book.  It worked then, and it would probably work now given the opportunity.  After the main meal marathon, I was still ready for the spread of desserts.  And later on when the sun went down I was always ready for a turkey sandwich and some gravy with anything.  It seemed that I was unstoppable.  Or just storing food away for the winter.

There is one similarity between the cooking of both of my grandmothers in their prime in the late 1940’s.  Both of their cooking styles contained a lot of grease.  Chicken or turkey or beef or pork or ham fat was a treat.  Things like “cracklin’s” were  a real treat!  When the fat was rendered from any of the above, it was used for frying almost anything.  It is hard to understand now, but this is where a lot of the delicious taste came from – the grease.  And the reason that we had bread at the table was to soak up the leftover grease from our plates.  Now this is frowned upon, and grease is disappearing….. just like our ancestors whose arteries gradually hardened and shortened their lives.

Our lives are full of choices:  long lives or great tasting meals;  hard labor outside in the healthy sun and air or sitting at a computer all day without any exercise and developing heart disease.  Choices.   Trade-offs.   Life is full of them.   My own heritage gave me a love for cooking.  I have always loved combining different flavors for the taste and smell that can become unique.  This is a lot like composing and orchestrating music, which is combining the different colors and timbres of various instruments into sounds that are pleasing and unique.  Both are based upon the choices that we make.  And, no matter what area these choices are in,  let us all remember to choose wisely…!