Oh Susannah (part one)

When I was a child, I believed everything I heard on radio or teevee. I believed that the United States was fighting against gorillas in Korea. I believed there were ghost riders in the sky. I believed that somehow it could get so hot that you could freeze to death and that sometimes when it rained all night, the weather could still be dry. I believed that some guy from Alabama with a banjo on his knee had come from looziana his true love for to see.

Oh Susannah really blew my mind and still does to this day.

When I got a few years older, shortly after I believed that a flying dinaosaur named Rodan was terrorizing Japan, I began to smarten up some. Around this time, I was encouraged to pick out an instrument and take music lessons. Elvis hadn't arrived yet so I didn't even think of guitar and the school didn't teach it anyways because the school was recruiting kids to play in the school orchestra.

I chose the clarinet. I had no idea what a clarinet even looked like but it sounded cool, a lot cooler than vioilin and different from trumpet which most of the guys chose as their instrument. Only two or three other kids chose clarinet.

My parents bought me a good one and made it clear that I should take it seriously because it was a serious instrument. I started taking lesssons and I guess I was pretty good because I got a lot of encouragement from my teachers and assurance that when I got a litttle older, I would be in the orchestra especially if I practiced maybe even first clarinet (whatever that was)...so I practiced even though I didn't enjoy playing. Practice became a drudgery and I took no joy in it.

Meanwhile rock and roll was starting up and I loved that. I noticed there was never a clarinet in a rock and roll band which only added to my disinterest and disdain for the instrument but I kept practicing and by the time I was in fifth grade, I was ready for the recital which was the last step before joining the orchestra.

My music teacher picked out my solo. She chose, Oh Susanah.

The recital was just something that I had to do so I got ready but my heart wasn't in it. My best friend Frankie was also in the recital. He played the piano but he hated that as much as I hated the clarinet. He never practiced and was scared shitless of the inevitable performance.

On the night of the recital, I was scheduled to be the fifth performer and Frankie was gona go third. The place was packed with parents and friends and catching vibes from Frank, i too became petrified. Frank preceeded me and froze. He screwed up his "Hunting Song" and had to start over three times. He finished the fiasco and sat down next to me, nearly in tears. I figured the same thing was gonna happen to me. I was gonna freeze and maybe even squeak. While the fourth kid was palying her solo, I wanted to get the hell outta there but realized that I was trapped.

I got my introduction. I walked up on the stage and played the song perectly. My practice had paid off. I never played better. My parents were verty proud. They remarked about how calm and composed I was during the performance and that I had played the song "perfectly" which in fact I had.

I got a nice round of applause. I returned to my seat as relieved as I had ever been in my life, ot at the perfection of my performance but rather because the pressure was off and to my amazement, I had come through in the clutch.

To this day, I have never had anything turn out as well as Oh Sussana did that night.

I had cinched my place in the orchestra which was kinda cool but nothing I was thrilled about.

I wanted to play baseball. I wanted to play football. I wanted to have hair like Elvis. I wanted to play the guitar.

Frankie quit the piano that night. The reason he chose to play the piano in the first place was because he had one in his house. I kept playing the clarinet for the next three years. I spent a lot of time over at Frankies house where he would occasionally play "The Hunting Song" on his piano. He would play it perfectly and always end by saying " I screwed that up" During that time, we joined the Boy Scouts. We were trustorthy, brave reverent and prepared. We joined Little League. I travelled to Ireland, couldn't wait to get home and play ball. I went to the Eastman school of Music. I practiced. I went on my first date. My parents made me play the clarinet on our porch for my date. Her name was Terry and she was my childhood friend who had moved away but came back when I asked het to go with me to be on Dance party which was our local equivalent to American Bandstand. We were on teevee and I was with the prettiest girl.

Oh Susannah had been very good to me.

It was the end of something and the beginning of something else.

A few weeks later, I saw Buddy Holly live. I heard my first electric guitar courtesy of Duane Eddy.

I stopped practicing. I settled for second clarinet.

And rock and roll and baseball and cigarettes and girls.

No more gorillas in Korea.

Don't you cry for me.