There’s nothing finer than music ~ October 13, 1994

David Heiller

My son came home from school two weeks ago with a trombone. I felt like the man who watched his mother-in. law drive off a cliff in his new Cadillac. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

On the one hand, Cindy and I want our children to take up an instrument. It’s good to learn tο read music. It’s a good school activity. He’ll get in with a good bunch of kids. Music is just plain good.

Malika sent me this photo as a homemade
postcard. (A trick she learned from her Daddy.) 
She and David loved to perform 
together both in public and in the kitchen.
They didn't play together nearly enough, though.

But a trombone? By an 11-year-old? In a small house, where lives a man who can hear stairs creak at 50 paces?

We tested it out on Friday night. I was playing the banjo in the kitchen, which is the best room in the world for any musical instrument.

Noah and our daughter, Malika, were playing with puzzles in the living room. They weren’t fighting (for a change), so I risked upsetting that fragile ecosystem by bringing out the banjo.

Now the banjo isn’t exactly the quietest instrument. That’s one reason I can’t get too righteous about the trombone. But when the urge hits me to play music, I play.

And darned if that trombone didn’t sound good. Noah was able to follow the tunes with his trombone, at least to dad’s Dumbo-like ears. Maybe beauty is in the ear of the beholder.

There’s nothing finer than playing music with your family. Here’s hoping for the best for boy and trombone. But even if that match doesn’t work out, it’s not the end of the line for Noah and music.

Music is what you make of it. I didn’t play an instrument in high school. I can’t read music. But I love to play and sing. If it brings you joy, that’s all you can ask. If it brings others joy, that’s a bonus.

ONE OF MY FAVORITE musicians is Red Hansen. He plays the piano accordion, and sometimes I play with him. We usually need an excuse to do this, like the Askov Fair Variety Show or an open house at the Askov American (this Friday from 9-noon).

Red and David at the
Askov American office, 1994.

Then we practice. I drive out to his house. Sometime’s he’s sitting in his porch, playing when I arrive. There’s nothing finer than the sound of homemade music drifting off a front porch.

Some of the songs we both know, like Amazing Grace or Grandfather’s Clock. Then Red will play something new. New to me that is. He’ll say, “You know that one, don’t you Dave?”

I’m always tempted to say, “Oh yeah, that one.” I should know it, but I was born 50 years too late. And I don’t dare lie, because then I’ll have to play it.

Red and David's last public appearance was at the Community Theatre in Barnum. Cynthia Johnson was presenting a series of Scandinavian folk tales. David played the button-box for one of them. He and Red played old Danish tunes before the opening curtain. They were a hit!

So I’ll say, “Νο, I don’t” in a sheepish voice, and Red will play, “Believe Me of All Those Endearing Young Charms,” and teach me a new song. There’s nothing finer than learning a new song with Red Hansen.

Sometimes even Red will get stuck on a song. He won’t remember its title, or how it goes. He’ll slap his head and say, “Come on, Hansen.” That makes me feel better. He’s forgotten more songs than I’ll ever know.

AND THERE’S NOTHING finer than a good live musical concert. I’ve been reminded of that twice in the last month and a half. The first time came when Dave Ray and Tony Glover played at Gampers in Moose Lake.

Tony autographed a harmonica book of his that I had bought back in 1975 or so. What a thrill to meet him and hear him play. And listening to Dave Ray play his guitar and sing was spellbinding. He sang and sweated through his shirt and through the night.

Their music took me back to my childhood, when my brother would bring Kohner, Ray, and Glover records home from college. And here they were, 30 years later, still playing to small crowds in a coffeehouse.

Stuart Davis played at Gampers last Sunday. His guitar sparkled too, and his original words twisted and turned in every fresh, original direction you could imagine. He’s a fantastic young musician from Minnesota.

When we clapped and clapped for an encore, he did three more songs. He didn’t want to stop. We didn’t want him to either.

…There’s nothing finer.