Where is the Xanax when you need one?

My God. I might as well have been a scuba diver swimming through shark-infested waters. OK, so that’s a slight exaggeration, but I’m prone to those. What really occurred is that I finally sat in with my friend’s band this past Sunday night and I played a song with them that I had been practicing for months. I was scared shitless.

But despite having subtracted years off my life, I’m glad I took the plunge. I have serious stage fright when it comes to playing the squeezebox in front of anyone other than my dog. See previous stage fright post from August 24, 2010. Sadly–the only way you can get over your paralyzing fear of playing in public is to play in public, or so my music-playing friends tell me. So I played.

I had a lump the size of a lemon in my throat from 8a.m Sunday morning until 8:43p.m. Sunday night (the precise moment I finished playing) and I lost three pounds of sweat. The lump was a little unpleasant but the weight loss helped me fit into my skinny jeans, so there was definitely a plus side.

I played some clunkers to be sure, but I kept playing and I didn’t stop and I didn’t run screaming from the room, even though I really really wanted to. That’s pretty good.

I will force myself to play in public again and am optimistic that one day it will feel more like fun and less like indigestion. Meanwhile, check out Loversville doing Waltz Across Texas. Oh yeah…that’s me on the left.

Klezmer rocks the Camel on Sunday

I have Jew envy.

My Jewish friends are some of the smartest, funniest, creative folks I know. They can lay claim to chicken noodle soup with matzo balls, Woody Allen, kickass dances like the hora, and some of the best weddings I’ve ever been to. But you know what I envy most? Klezmer is the music of their peeps. Sigh.

I love Klezmer. And I think you would, too, if you heard the local Richmond band My Son, the Doctor, a wonderful ensemble that University of Richmond English professor Louis Schwartz leads. You can learn more about the band and all of the fab musicians on their official Web page.

The band members are first rate. When I hear their rhythmic, minor-key melodies, I want to clap my hands and tap my toes. Also—though I can’t even begin to understand the lyrics, I feel like they’re speaking to me anyway.

Check out one of their recent performances at Elwood’s Café last August and you’ll see what I mean.

You can hear them again tomorrow night at the Camel on 1621 Broad Street, a great venue for local music. Sunday, September 11, is World Music Night, and My Son the Doctor is part of the line up. Music begins at 9 p.m., and the cover is only $5.

So I’m not Jewish but I can still get my Jewish jones by listening to the soulful and beautiful sound of an accordion mixed with a clarinet—the keystone of all Klezmer music.

And since this is my blog, well, here’s me playing the only Klezmer song I know. I think I need to learn another one.

Cleveland, a Polka Town–Part 2

It’s damn near impossible to top DJ Kishka’s Polka Happy Hour, but as polka tourists on the loose in Cleveland, we had to try. So, we set off for the Cleveland-Style Polka Hall of Fame in nearby Euclid.

Here’s the problem. We spent so much time goofing around in the Tremont neighborhood (eating breakfast, taking photographs, and checking out The Christmas Story Museum) that we didn’t arrive at the front door of the hall of fame until 3:04p.m. That’s when we saw the sign that it had closed at 3p.m. OMG.

I was devastated. Not wanting to spend an entire evening with a dejected and utterly pissed-off wife, Joe glanced around in a panic and caught what he thought was a glimpse of a head. So he knocked on the door politely, a few times. With a newly injected glimmer of hope, I banged on the door. And banged. And banged. I wasn’t going anywhere.

Then like an angel she appeared–Beatrice Jerkich, the volunteer employee on the schedule that Saturday. I hereby nominate Beatrice as the Cleveland-Style Hall of Fame’s Employee of the Month. Hell, make it Employee of the Year! She let Joe and me in to wander and take pictures and buy goodies from the gift shop. She said we could stay for 15 minutes, but she didn’t kick us out when we stayed for 45. I heart Beatrice.

The Polka Hall of Fame rocked! I only wish I could have spent two hours there so I could have read every placard in the place and watched Polka! The Movie from beginning to end. Ah well–that’s what you get for not checking the closing time in the guide book. I’ll never make that mistake again. Check out a slideshow of pics from the hall of fame and the accordion museum, which I’ll mention in a minute.

Next stop – Frank Sterle’s Slovenian Country House. Talk about a 180 degree departure from the night before. The median age was roughly 40 years older than the Kishka crowd, but the experience was every bit as kick ass. I loved it the moment I walked through the entrance. Wood paneling, Slovenian flags and murals on the walls; Chicken Paprikash, dumplings and Wienerschnitzel on the menu. But best of all–a polka band! Check out the dancers. At the very end of this video, you’ll see a wonderful couple doing what I learned was the Cleveland-style of polka known as “the hop.” I must learn how to do this–I dance the German-style polka myself. I was completely smitten with this wonderful gentleman and was ready to move in for a dance and toss his date aside, but my wrist was throbbing from all the polka dancing the night before. Plus, at the time I still had my orange cast on and I feared that during a spirited spin I might accidentally club him in the head. So, I settled for a short conversation instead and got to watch him dance again, without me. Heavy sigh.

Day 3 was a Cleveland Indians game (not part of our polka agenda, but come on, we had to make an exception). After the game and just before cruising out of town, our final polka tourist attraction was the Cleveland Accordion Museum. This was…er…a bit unusual. Visits are by appointment only (I’m most grateful that he let us stop by on a Sunday afternoon) and the museum itself is actually the basement of a guy’s upscale suburban home. But that’s not the oddest part. In addition to hello and goodbye, the guy spoke about 10 words total. That’s fine, but if you’re that much of an introvert, would your heart’s desire be to open up your house as a museum? He was a reluctant docent, to say the least. Although we tried our best to get this guy to engage, here is a sample snippet of conversation.

Joe: (looking around at the unbelievably impressive array of accordions that lined the walls) “Wow. This is amazing. Do you have any favorites?”

Museum owner: “Yes (pause), I have my favorites.” (Joe and I look at him expectantly)

Sound of crickets chirping.

The rest of the conversation was pretty much a variation of that.

But hats off to this former player who has assembled the most impressive collection of accordions I’ve ever seen, some of which dated back to the 1800s. Definitely a stop on the agenda for any serious polka tourist. Yes, Frankie Yankovic said it best: Cleveland, It’s a Polka Town. Drew Carey also said it best: Cleveland rocks!

Cleveland, a Polka Town–Part 1

I vacationed in Cleveland this summer and was, as my friend Bob so succinctly put it, a polka tourist. To his credit my husband dutifully and (for the most part) joyfully accompanied me on this mission –who needs the beach?

DJ Kishka’s Polka Happy Hour at the Happy Dog Bar on W. 58th and Detroit was the first stop on our weekend itinerary. We literally drove 1100 miles round trip–well technically my husband drove the entire way because of my broken wrist– just to experience this vintage Cleveland event. It was every bit as kick ass fabulous as I hoped it would be.

Hundreds of hipsters across the city of Cleveland are rediscovering the joys of polka tunes and polka dancing and they have Justin Gorski (aka DJ Kishka) to thank. One Friday a month, Clevelanders (or is it Cleves?) cram into this cozy bar to listen to Kishka’s hilarious banter as he spins his Dad’s old polka records…for three hours. Seriously, it was fantastically fun. I loved the food (hotdogs with every kind of topping you can imagine), the people (young to old, hipster to biker), the camaraderie, and the music–polka rules. I think the population of Cleveland would be inclined to agree.

If you’re a doubter, check out this short video of DJ Kishka and the awesomeness known as Polka Happy Hour.

If you can’t make it to Cleveland, you can do the next best thing and buy a Polka Happy Hour CD from DJ Kishka’s website. Hey now! Why not invite your friends over and have a polka happy hour in your living room–all the cool kids are doing it.

Thank you, DJ Kishka for preaching the gospel of the almighty polka. Keep the faith!

Stay tuned for more Cleveland weekend polka highlights.

Did you miss the show?

Don’t despair. You can give it a listen right now. Just download the podcast. Sit back and enjoy Bill Lupoletti’s fabulous radio show, Global A Go-Go on Richmond Independent Radio WRIR. Special bonus: this particular show is all accordion, all the time.

P.S. During the show there is talk of a bus to carry a bunch of spirited Richmond folk to Blob’s Park Bavarian Dance Hall in Jessup, MD. If this sounds like fun to you, drop me a comment on this post and your email address. I’ll contact you with details about the polka bus trip. For more info on Blob’s see Aug. 22, 2010 post.