Volume 6 – #8 – August 2003

I’m sitting alone at Bickford’s Family Restaurant in Springfield, Massachusetts and for 99 cents more I can substitute the “World Famous” onion rings for the fries or slaw that usually come with a grilled cheese sandwich (pickle included). The place is pretty active for 10 pm on a Sunday night, but my waitress is attentive and efficient. She told me that things have gotten a lot worse in Springfield in the last five years, implying that I’m lucky to be staying at a motel in West Springfield. Earlier today we played a party in Haverhill, Massachusetts for a displaced Texan. His wife went to high school in Fayetteville, Texas with the daughter of famous Texas Czech polka bandleader, Lee Roy Matoca. There was a painting of his old tour bus on display at the party and we all observed a moment of silence for Lee Roy, because he died recently. It was touching. I like silent moments. At the break I had a piece of cake and went outside to the parking lot, where a partygoer was putting a little red plastic cowboy hat on his Bassett Hound. The dog didn’t mind at all. After the party, we drove a couple of hours to West Springfield, passing Palmer, Massachusetts on the way. Legendary east coast Polish polka star, Happy Louie, lives in Palmer, so we called him to see if he was up for a visit. We would like to meet him. He was cordial, but said that he wasn’t feeling up to having guests. We discussed getting together tomorrow morning, but that probably won’t happen. Fellow polka stars, Larry Chesky and Lenny Gomulka, also live in this area. I would like to have breakfast at Bickford’s Family Restaurant with all three of these guys, in a group or individually, but I never eat breakfast. Oh well.

All of the traveling this summer has numbed me out a little bit. Not in a bad way, just in an interesting way. An astrology buff friend of mine told me recently that I’m not very grounded, according to my chart. There’s not much earth there. I have never felt very grounded. The impermanence of this existence has always seemed just too obvious; best to not get too attached. I think I’m have a good time, but mainly I’m just doing my thing the best I can. Sometimes I wonder what exactly my thing is, but I figure if I don’t know, then no one else will know either. I do know that my thing involves a lot of busy work in addition to performing and recording. I guess it doesn’t matter as long as my equipment all works. My guitar, keyboard and accordion are pretty important parts of my self-expression. They allow me to rock out.

My voice has felt pretty good all week. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. When it’s not working it hurts to reach higher pitches. Real singers take care of their voices so they can be as consistent as possible. I accept that my situation is hit or miss; the excitement of the unknown. Actually, the unknown is a pretty motivating element for me. Every day is a new adventure and every gig is an adventure within an adventure. And every song is an adventure within an adventure within an adventure. And every straying thought…well, you get the idea. Man, when you’re on the road, lunch is an adventure. Even mundane stuff is inhabited by interesting characters if you choose to notice. I like to look at people. Sometimes I look too closely for too long. Loved ones have been known to tell me not to stare. I like to watch two people who know each other meet unexpectedly. You know, at the store or the bank. One might wave and say, “Hey, how are you?” and the other one would say, “Fine.” And then there might be awkwardness as they each try to figure out how to wrap up the visit ASAP. Anyway, I like to watch the tail end of their smiles turn into no emotion as they separate and get back to business. Everyone does this, except for people who smile constantly for no reason. When I concentrate I may look stern, but I don’t necessarily feel that way. So I guess it’s okay for people to smile, though they have nothing to smile about. You could say I spend a lot of time pondering minutia.

I mentioned in last month’s newsletter that something was brewing with the TV show, The Simpsons. Well, it looks like it’s going to happen. An episode next season involves a polka band and some polka music. I don’t want to say too much, but Brave Combo is a polka band that plays polka music. That’s all for now. We’re still months away. Anything can happen between now and then. Humanity may experience some giant leap of enlightenment that makes television passé overnight. You know, I want everyone to evolve, but I hope that doesn’t happen the day before the episode airs. That would suck.

We’ve been driving a lot of rural highways in New England and upstate New York and it’s all very picturesque; rolling and lush. Sometimes the houses that line the roads are modest and many are a little run down. Nature appears to be taking over many of the yards. But what the area lacks in new and slick, it makes up in character. I saw a little boy coming out of the front door of his house, walking down the porch steps. He was barefooted and I could feel the cool wooden steps under his feet. A little hand-made sign on the side of the road said, “Sweet Corn Just Ahead.” And, sure enough, a quarter of a mile later, on the right was a vegetable cart in someone’s driveway. An elderly woman was setting up a fresh corn display.

Big news. A fan gave me a CD he compiled of recordings by one-time New England polka stars, The Connecticut Twins. I’ve loved their music for years. Now I have lots of their stuff on one CD. Cool beyond words. So, since I am now beyond words, I’ll close this month’s ramble fest. And speaking of fests, check out our itinerary. Festivals continue, as do other opportunities to hear Brave Combo. Come up and say hello. We’ll be nice. I promise. Polka On!