My husband and I went to a great party Saturday night. A really great party.

You start with our gracious hosts, Aldo Bello and Marilyn Finnemore, and their lovely home in the country. You fill it with 30 or so of their fun friends and add some killer meat on the grill. Oh…and throw in some booze.

All that makes for a good party but not a great one. But here’s where Aldo and Marilyn were smart. They knew enough to invite not just one accordion player, but two. Hell yeah!

About two hours in, JoAnn (the other accordion player) asked to see my accordion, which Aldo and Marilyn insisted that I bring. She oohed and ahh’ed and then she pulled hers out of the case. Once they were out, well, we had to play.

Those of you who follow my blog know that playing in front of people generally gives me a mini stroke. But JoAnne and the crowd made me feel like accordions were cool (and by extension that made me kinda cool). So what the hell. I also had three Tecates in my blood stream.

Basically we started squeaking and squawking and we slowly filled the room. Got that guitarists? We filled the room–we didn’t clear it.

Here’s my new accordion buddy, JoAnn Pankow going to town. Chas (the guitarist) and I had given up trying to sight read along with her at that point and were just bobbing our heads in appreciation.

And here’s me actually playing a note this time.

Then came the guitar solo and the sing-alongs (but the accordions came first!). That’s Chas on the guitar. He’s a hell of a guy and writes some of the funniest original songs I’ve ever heard–I’m only sorry I didn’t get a recording of the song he wrote about his cat. Hoo boy.

It ended with craziness on the dance floor. This went on for hours.

 

Let us remember, it all began with some accordion.

Forget cowbell. We need more accordion!