Klarinet Archive - Posting 000426.txt from 2003/03

From: "Lelia Loban" <lelialoban@-----.net>
Subj: [kl] Jazz and Age
Date: Mon, 10 Mar 2003 08:41:17 -0500

Angelina Lopez-Frank wrote,
> Although I have to admit, due to the cartoon "What's
>Opera, Doc?", (Kill the Wabbit! Kill the Wabbit!) I
>always thought that really was the original format of
>Ride of the Valkryies.

LOL! I can't hear the "Ride of the Valkyries" without thinking of that
Elmer Fudd cartoon. We're not the only ones, either. Just a couple of
weeks ago, my husband and I were riding in the car when one of the local
classical stations played the Wagner. We simultaneously burst into song!

Arturo (no more platitudes) Ciompi wrote,
>For what it's worth, I got myself a fake I.D. when I was 14
>years old. This was in Cleveland, Ohio where one had to be
>18 in order to go to jazz clubs. I never pushed my luck with
>liquor, etc. but that fake I.D. allowed me to hear John Coltrane,
>Canonball Adderly, Charlie Mingus and others live!

I never had a fake ID, but when I lived near San Francisco, one of my
favorite things to do in junior high and high school (class of 1966) was go
to hear the beat and early hippie poets, the rockers, the folk singers and
the jazz jammers in North Beach and on the other side of the Golden Gate,
in Sausalito. Miles Davis, Thelonius Monk, Mingus, Coltrane--everybody
played those places. The Dave Brubeck Quartet was a local group and I
heard it every chance I got. The bouncers in places like the Hungry I
probably would have kept out a big group of high schoolers, but they looked
the other way for inconspicuous (non-drunk) couples or threesomes, even
though at age 16, I could pass for under 12--and frequently did so, at the
movies; unless it was the sort of movie where they wouldn't let anyone in
who was under 18, in which case I passed for over 18 just as easily,
because the kids in the box office didn't give a popcorn kernel who they
let in. On occasion, I also passed for nobody of any age, in the trunk of
a car on the way into the drive-in that showed the all-night horror movie
festivals. The theater was just off Hwy 101, between San Rafael and
Novato, right next door to the Nike Missile site, but the drive-in is long
gone, replaced by apartments and an industrial park. So much for my sordid
life of crime.

My parents would have *croaked* if they'd found out about this stuff. Dad
was a jazz fan and knew I loved the stuff (I went to my first jazz jams
with him, so come to think of it, maybe the bouncers let me in because I
looked familiar) and I wasn't even a good liar, but I was such an
innocent-looking little goody-goody honor student that when I said I was
going to somebody's house to study, apparently it never occurred to them to
ask questions. Well, I *was* going to somebody's house . . . to go
somewhere else and study jazz, commie poetry and bug-eyed monsters.
:-)

Lelia Loban
lelialoban@-----.net

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