A Musical Education

I have to tell you all about a fantastic evening we had with Julie last night. Some of DannyD's friends are in a "School of Rock" band that started up in the Aptos area when D was still in grade school. Last night they had a gig at a local folk/rock and Mexican restaurant venue up here in Felton – Don Quixote's – as an opening act for their teachers' Irish band, "The Wild Rovers." Julie came up and got us and we drove down to the club, where several of Ju's girlfriends (whose kids all grew up together with Danny) gathered with us. The place was packed (this show has lots of area fans, apparently) – and we found out why!

Pitchers of margaritas and plates of nachos and fajitas were consumed; and as the show started we learned that a grade-school group would be the first of the two opening acts.

The teacher who is the leader of the Rovers and the instigator of all this fun at his school introduced the kids, and these pint-sized 5th and 6th graders (and I swear, some only in third or fourth grade) took the stage by storm. The noise was deafening (Julie had commandeered a big table for our group right down in front) and utterly amazing. The girl-singer, a cute little maid with nut-brown hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose, led the band with an infectious joy and a belting growl worthy of Janis; their bass player, a tiny Hawaiian kid with a peaked cap and a righteous attitude, twanged his pale blue axe mightily; and the audience was roaring approval before the first set barely got started!

Then on came the "older team" – led by Danny's long-time best friend/neighbor, 11-year-old Sean Collins (Irish indeed, he is) – they strode onstage, adjusted the mike heights up, and played another "bringing down the house" set. Young Collins knocked us all out; his father told us he's "had the moves" since he picked up a stick with grooves in it at the age of two and started playing rhythm air guitar along with his older brother's riffs. He's famous in this area and received all due respect and chuffs from his audience last night.

After that ripping start, the kids came down and scoffed up more chips and salsa and then gathered in groups on the floor in front of the stage, or squeezed in with us at our table, and attended a long and wonderful full set by their teachers – full of Gaelic standards amped up a-la-Pogues, with plenty of audience participation on the "Oh, nay, never" choruses, and the rapt attention of every kid in the place, as they gazed up in hero worship at their mentors. One cute young blond girl just couldn't sit still; she was up and doing Irish step-dancing with verve and vigor, over to the side of the room from time to time! Young Collins sat by me and watched every tiny move his guitar teacher made with obvious attention and glee – once in a while turning to me with a grin that said: "Isn't he great?!"

This is education for life, folks; I was just overwhelmed to see it in action. Dave Lambert will know what I am talking about: he's preaching the gospel mightily in his own village, bless him! Yes, musicians are a rowdy lot and can get into a lot of trouble; but in my opinion, their music is capable of saving the best of them, in the long run. Most of these kids will not go on to become the next Clapton or Hendrix (or, I pray, Joplin); but they're learning a lifetime joy that no one can take from them: it will bring happiness to them and to their friends who get to share the love of music with them, over the long years of adult struggle and achievement. They are a favored and happy few; Julie has been very lucky to have an environment such as this in which to bring up her children.

In fact, all of our dear kids grew up in a love of music of all kinds; I see that it has comforted and sustained them and brought them joy over the years. Even when you can't play, you can draw sustenance and great fun from those who do.

God bless all musicians, where ere they may shine; their songs are as sweet as the fruit of the vine!