In the fall of 1997, six months after I'd bought my first vintage guitar, a 1938 B&D Groton 1, I was sitting with my mother and my wife on the front porch of our home in New Jersey. As I plunked out one old-time tune after another on the instrument, I turned to my mother (Sofia Clark, née Dvanzo) and asked: "Why do I know these melodies?"
“Don't you remember?” she asked. “When you were a little boy you used to play my 78 r.p.m. records over and over.”
One tune I’d played that afternoon was “Pennies From Heaven,” a popular song introduced by Bing Crosby in 1936. But other melodies, including “Tip-Toe Thru’ The Tulips,” “Ain’t She Sweet,” “On A Slow Boat To China,” “Makin’ Whoopee!” and “Jeepers Creepers,” spilled off my fingers as I played the guitar.
The 78s I played as a child were records my mother had collected as a teenager. They were popular tunes by Bing, Ella, Satchmo, Frank and the Gershwins with a ragtime, jazz or swing pedigree or classical music chestnuts by Rimsky-Korsakov, Tchaikovsky and others.
Back in the day my mother was a bobby soxer called Babe who grew up in the Corona section of Queens, NY. But things got tense as Babe, the third of three girls in a tightly wound Italian family, matured. At 18, she ran away from home.
Though I know few details of her life in those days, I'm aware she joined a roller skating show and toured the U.S. with a troop of 10 women and 10 men called the Skating Vanities of 1946. They danced to the popular tunes of the day and performed at roller skating arenas across the country, which numbered 1,500 venues back in the day. And they didn't call it roller skating, even though they wore wooden-wheeled skates and danced across wooden floors.
As my mother traveled across the country she picked up a lot of souvenirs, some of which she paid for. She also acquired a collection of thick, black 78 rpm records.
Five, ten and 15 years later, when I, my sister and brother came along, we'd play her records on a white Philco record player. A portable, the machine had one speed, 78 r.p.m., replaceable needles and heavy metal tone arm that pivoted over the records. Though clumsy in my hands, it poured fountains of great music over and over on me at a young age.
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| Sofia Dvanzo - 1945 |
Back in the day my mother was a bobby soxer called Babe who grew up in the Corona section of Queens, NY. But things got tense as Babe, the third of three girls in a tightly wound Italian family, matured. At 18, she ran away from home.
Though I know few details of her life in those days, I'm aware she joined a roller skating show and toured the U.S. with a troop of 10 women and 10 men called the Skating Vanities of 1946. They danced to the popular tunes of the day and performed at roller skating arenas across the country, which numbered 1,500 venues back in the day. And they didn't call it roller skating, even though they wore wooden-wheeled skates and danced across wooden floors.
As my mother traveled across the country she picked up a lot of souvenirs, some of which she paid for. She also acquired a collection of thick, black 78 rpm records.
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| Skating Vanities of 1946 PROGRAM TWENTY FIVE CENTS |
Forty-odd years later, sitting on my own porch in New Jersey, all these old songs poured from my memory, off my fingers and out of my c. 1938 B&D Groton guitar — a 60-year-old, steel-stringed acoustic.
So, when people ask me why I play vintage music on vintage instruments, I blame my mother. The rest, we say, is history.
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So, when people ask me why I play vintage music on vintage instruments, I blame my mother. The rest, we say, is history.
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© 2011 Kenneth Lelen - All Rights Reserved
