The High Deserts Social Network Blog…


Every once in a while you have to get away from the drudgeries of life, and my son David and I did that last week.  We went to the redwoods at Muir Woods above San Francisco.  What an experience!  About two or three miles before we arrived at the park, we saw cars parked on both sides of the road with people walking to the entrance.   David drove past them and when we got to the entrance we saw the parking lot was full.  As we were making the turn at the ticket booth to return to the end of the line of parked cars, a woman in the very first spot pulled out and we zipped right in.  David joked she made his day more than the thrill of seeing the trees.  This had the makings of a good day!


There was quite a bit of noise and clamor, especially from children as we began walking into the tree area.  The further we went in amongst the gigantic trees the quieter it became.  I noticed I began whispering, as were others around me, including the children without being told.  We were experiencing a spiritual moment, an aura surrounding us similar to feeling the Holy Spirit, giving us a sense of calm and security.  Just having that feeling was worth all the travel, time and expense to get there.  The longer we were in the giant groves, the children and people returned to their normal selves, but I still felt the affects.   It was another wonderful experience for me, one of many I’ve had during my travels in this “Blessed country,” as my father would say.  That was quoted from by book, “Diary of a Young Musician, Final Days of the Big Band Era.”


When we left Muir Woods we drove to see the San Rafael Mission a few miles away, and after what we had just seen this was anticlimactic.  With the many missions we had visited this was probably one of the weakest of the chain of 21 in California, as it had been torn down almost a century earlier.  They began to rebuild it without truly knowing what the original looked like.  Regardless, it was still a pleasant visit, as I’m sure they came close to the original.


Our spirits were rejuvenated when we saw the “eighth” wonder of the world, the San Rafael Civic Center.  It was a sight to behold as it came into view.  It gave the impression of being about three football fields long, a rectangular edifice connected to two hills on both sides, giving the impression it was an extension of the earth.  This building was designed and built by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1929.  The two-story building is as beautiful today as it was when it was built.  The interior was breathtaking with colored tiles on the floors, walls, and the ceiling all in earth tones, the same as when it was built.  Tree-like plants grew along the center of the first floor extending to the second floor.   I leaned over the railing and touched them thinking they were fake, but they weren’t.  I’m sure what I did was a no-no!  Even the original phone booths inserted into the walls were still there sans telephones.  I’m sure people with cell phones still use them for privacy.  Then again in this day and age, those talking like everyone around them to know their business.


The day ended with total success when we found a wonderful Thai restaurant that had been given FIVE STARS in my iPad.

June 27, 2011 Posted by | AV Best Children's Books, c | , , , , | Leave a comment

CHROMATIC HARMONICA (HARP) HISTRIONICS (For present and future harmonica junkies)

I lost my lip (musician’s terminology) when I was a professional trombonist in the showrooms of Reno, Lake, and Las Vegas in the late 50s and early 60s.  It was my life and I loved it.   I woke up one morning and couldn’t play.  I had developed Bells palsy and after a second serious attack of the same ailment my playing days were over.  Luckily, I was married to a beautiful dancer, Shirley, whom I had met when we were both performing at Harrah’s Club in Lake Tahoe, NV, she as a dancer and I with Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians.   Being a Hoosier and a down home girl, she was a tower of strength, and with her help I pursued other areas of employment.  I had a B.S. from the State University of NY, Potsdam, and soon became a band teacher in Palmdale, CA, for 27 years, a truly rewarding career.  When I retired at age 60, I became a children’s author for the next 21 years (, and also wrote my autobiography, “Diary of a Young Musician, Final Days of the Big Band Era (”

 When Shirley passed away almost two years ago after 48 years of a wonderful marriage (we were one of the lucky ones), I couldn’t stop thinking about her, so I had to find something to do to keep my mind occupied.  My creative juices to write had disappeared the year I began taking care of Shirley and continued after she passed away.  So I pulled out the old trombone that I hadn’t played for almost 50 years.  When I held it in my hands it was like being back with an old friend, but the magic wouldn’t return.  I tried for a few months but the muscles in my lips wouldn’t respond.  I laid off the horn for a couple of months but being a glutton for punishment like a drug addict, I tried again and got the same discouraging results. 

I wanted to do something musical and for some strange reason I chose the harmonica, or harp as it’s known.  I didn’t know what I was getting into.  I decided to play the chromatic harp because I loved the way Toots Thielemans played jazz and that’s what I wanted to do.  I found out all I needed to know about the instrument on the internet, the brands, how to take care of it, and what the internal components were.  I should have been forewarned when I read the material.  When I felt well informed, I went to the local Guitar Center and bought a Hohner 270 Chromatic Harmonica plus a couple of instruction books. 

When I was a kid I bought a trombone with an instruction book thrown in and learned to play it by myself, then eventually took lessons.  I didn’t know any better and was lucky I didn’t develop bad habits.  Three weeks after I began the trombone, I bought Tommy Dorsey’s recording of “Getting Sentimental After You,” and copied Dorsey as he played the tune.  By doing that I soon developed a high range that helped me when I joined a professional road band almost three years later.  In fact that tune got me my first job, it’s all in my book, “Dairy of a Young Musician, Final Days of the Big Band Era (”

When I returned home from the Guitar Center I immediately read the introductions to both instruction books, and soon became a little confused.  I assumed the longer I played I would become deconfused (my own word), and as the months passed that’s what happened.  I was learning to play the harmonica by myself as I did the trombone.  The difference between the chromatic harp that has a lever on the side, and the smaller type we’ve all played called the diatonic, was the chromatic had three full octaves.  Of course the first thing I tried to play was the jazz tune, “Lullaby of Birdland,” by my well-tested hit and miss method.  I got it to a degree but it didn’t sound very good.  By experimenting, I blew from note to note and discovered where the first note of the song was, and then went from there.  But when I tried playing that note again I had to go through the same process because there were so many more notes and octaves.  As I soon found out the instrument had it’s own built in playing problems.  The only way I could find the right notes on the chromatic was to practice hundreds and hundreds of hours and eventually find the notes by instinct).  Eventually that instinct would direct me to the correct starting notes (I’m doing much better now but still not totally mastered).  Once I came to my senses, I began at the beginning of the instruction book with “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”  I was truly on my way.

But that was only the beginning of my problems.  The third day after I took the harp out of the case the lever stuck and it wouldn’t budge.  I went back to the internet to look for “Trouble shooting,” and found out about the above-mentioned problem.  It turned out my own saliva was the culprit.  Saliva is something like a glue-like substance that could only be taken care of by unscrewing the mouthpiece and cleaning it with dish detergent.  I found one piece of serious “erroneous” instructions that said to turn the instrument up side down and place the mouthpiece in water up to the lever in a small tray.  While in the water I pushed the lever back and forth, and then let it dry for a while in that position, so water wouldn’t drip into the delicate reed area that makes the harmonica function.  That worked, but the more I cleaned it, notes that were weak to begin with when I bought it were getting even more difficult to play.   I called a tech at Hohner and the old gal who answered wasn’t very pleasant, giving me no satisfaction at all.  She has since retired.  As the harmonica got harder to blow I bought another harmonica and after a few months the same thing occurred.  My progress on the instrument was being held up.  Getting discouraged, I momentarily thought of forgetting the whole thing.  But not being one to give up I decided to try one more time and purchased a more expensive deluxe model that was definitely better.  I was frustrated once again when the lever became stuck after a few days.  I called Hohner, and the new tech who was almost as cold as the previous one gave me the correct advise.  When I asked if it was okay to place the harmonica in water to clean, he answered, “Absolutely not, it will eventually prevent the reeds from working even though the water’s not hitting it.”  Somehow the moisture got into the reeds.  All these problems had now been going on for a period of months and were very discouraging.  The tech said the mouthpiece must be taken off and cleaned every time the lever began to stick.  I answered, “Every time?” He said “yes,” and that was it. 

I proceeded to unscrew the mouthpiece of the harmonica and that’s when new problems arose.  I couldn’t get it to play when I reassembled it and the spring that held the lever came unhinged.  I had no alternative but to send it back to the factory.  When it was returned to me it was in fine working shape, but this time they sent along a set of detailed instructions how to take it apart and clean it.  The newly repaired instrument played beautifully, but within days the lever stuck.  Following the instructions I carefully disassembled the harp, washed it, then reassembled it without any problems, but it took a half hour.   Did I want to spend that much time cleaning it every few days?  It was a major decision.  I figured all professional harmonica players did the same thing.  I practiced running the procedure  in my mind and the next time it took 20 minutes.  When I did it a third time it took 10 minutes while listening to the news on TV.  If I wanted to play the chromatic harmonica that’s what had to be done.

From the time I began playing I had trouble finding anyone who played the chromatic harp as I had many questions to ask.  I finally found two great diatonic blues harp players who played the small harmonica.  They had both tried to play the chromatic but had given up because of all the complications.  They thought it was the most difficult instrument they’d ever tried to learn.  Whenever I hear great professional players I have profound admiration for them, as I know what they went through to learn and play the instrument. Now that I’ve overcome all the physical barriers of my beloved harp, I’m now sailing along, and have been offered dance jobs that I’ll be playing about a year from now when I’m 82.   Now if I can just stay awake on the job!

June 14, 2011 Posted by | AV Best Children's Books, c | , , , , | Leave a comment