Oh Susannah (Part 2)

For awhile, I had aspirations of becoming an Eagle Scout. I had the Boy Scout Manual which described all of the requirements for any merit badge. Since I played the clarinet and had studied at Eastman School of Music, I figured that I might as well get the music merit badge.

I found the name of the advisor who would check on my requirements and approve my merit. I made an appointment. I packed up my instrument and biked  way over to his house. It was a bumpy ride.

I knocked on the door of his house, a house that had seen better days. He opened the door and asked how he could help me. I told him that I was the kid trying to get a music merit badge. He remembered and invited me into his home.

I couldn't tell if he was young or old because he was quite tall and had a full beard. My ONLY experience with beards was Santa Claus and Abe Lincoln. He had his hair combed staight back and if he used Brylcreem, he used more than a little dab.

Even though it was a sunny day, he had his windows closed and his Venetian blinds drawn. I noticed that he had a guitar in one corner of his large living room, a a pair of bongo drums on his coffee table, shelves full of books both paperback, comic and hardcover. His ashtrays were full of Camel butts. The only artwork I could see was a poster of Robbie the Robot carrying Ann Francis. Under the poster was a piano. 

" I know your name Scout, do you know mine?.

"Your name is Mr. Krell, sir".

"That's right. So you like music, do ya. What kind do ya like?."

" I like orchestra music", I lied.

I'm pretty sure he saw through that because he then asked "do you like that rock and roll?"

Mr. Krell was the first older person who had ever asked me about rock and roll.

I told him about Buddy Holly, Clyde McPhatter, Duane Eddy, and Dion and the Belmonts. I told him that I had gone to that rock and roll show at the new War Memorial. Sensing his approval, I went on and on about the show.

He let me talk which surprised me.

When I was done, he asked the required questions. Could I read music? Could I count beats in a measue? Did I know what a times signature was? Could I name three stringed instruments? 

I could. I could. I did and I could.

He asked me if I had any long playing records or just 45's.

I told him that I had lots of 45's as well as three long play hi fi 33's; Loving You by Elvis, the Twang's the Thang by Duane Eddy and the Music from Peter Gunn by Henry Mancini.

He seemed  impressed. He showed me his albums and he had dozens of them, mostly from artists that I had never heard of except for Fats Domino and Little Richard.

He noticed that I had brought my clarinet case. He knew that I was required to play three songs.

Krell said "let me hear you play."

I opened my case and started assembling my instrument when I discovered that during my bike ride, I had cracked my only reed. I wouldn't be able to play the clarinet that day.

He asked me if I could play anything on any other instrument.

I told him that I could play a couple of songs on the piano. I sat down on his piano stool and one handed  Oh Sussanah and The Hunting Song. I said "that's it".

He asked me if I ever played the bongos which I hadn't.

Krell said "I'll play a couple of songs on my hi fi for you. See if you can find the beat on the bongos."

He played a couple of songs. There were no drums in the music and the singer had a nasal voice voice and "sang" weird words almost like he was talking. Somehow, I could feel the rhythm in the songs. I tapped away on the bongos with my heart and my hands.

Krell seemed satisfied with my tapping. He told me that I had natural rhythm and he liked the way that I "felt" the music. He told me that he paid close attention to my hands when I played the piano. He noticed the chewed nails. He told me that I didn't have the hands to be a musician but I might have the rhythm and tapping to be a drummer. I asked who was singing on the album. He told me it was a young guy named Bob Dylan.

He said he would count the bongo songs as the performance requirement.

Then he said this....."you have the hands of a writer. You and I know that you still owe me a performance. What do you think, you should do?"

I had run out of ideas but he had one tucked away. There was something he wanted me to do..something that I "owed him." Something that I would eventually learn to love

"Someday, I want you to write about me and about this moment and my message."