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Road Trip Report

We’re home and glad to be here. We learned lots, including that even 3 hours a day of driving is too much for real pleasure. But it was fun to visit with people and see them in their spaces and get to know them better. And see new vistas. Visit museums. Many of them had workers who were really happy to have us play a few songs. We took our instruments in to put behind the counter for safekeeping, which led to songs. Relevant songs. Fun to find the right song for each group.

And we ate at interesting places all along the way. On the way home I got into searching the internet for Mexican bakeries along the way, seeking a particular kind of cookie I like. It was interesting that the bakeries were clustered – none in Umatilla but three in nearby Hermiston. None in Kennewick but lots in Pasco. I was looking at the demographics of racism, and clustering of cultures as well. Good cookies too…

I brought a bottle of wine from Paul & Mardi Portteus’ winery in Zillah for a friend who has a restaurant. Dickensons (?) in town distributes their wine. Paul would love to see some more people be interested in Bellingham. We had an interesting story from him when we sang the Walla Walla Waltz. In the early years, 3 of the first four Walla Walla wineries bought their grapes from Paul. He is proud of that, but annoyed he didn’t get the credit. They built their reputation on his grapes. Anyway, we don’t drink but thought our friends might be interested so Paul sent along a couple of bottles.

I took some of Mom’s ashes to her family’s graves. And visited the ranch house where she grew up. The current renter had gathered her sweetheart, her best friend, and her young landlord, who has worked hard to restore the place. I brought old photos and stories, including one of the big vinegar factory that was right across the irrigation canal from the back door. And I took away new photos, and friendships, and pebbles & flowers from the locust tree the yard to take with Mom’s ashes to the graveyards. And had tears at the graveyards. Tuesday I will mail hollyhock seeds from our back garden and California poppies from the front to be planted at the ranch house. I have a sweet photo of Mom and her Mom (Alma) with Alma’s hollyhocks blooming along the side of the ranch house. There’s nothing there now but weeds and rocks, but Crystal has been working to restore the garden. They found some of the roots of Mom’s birth tree buried deep beside the road out front.

Zeke and I came out of it all closer to each other. A week of no internet didn’t hurt. And prepping for concerts.

And with an amazing gift! An offer from some retired videographers to record me and Zeke for free, to put on this website or do anything else we want with the tapes. They are coming here from Kennewick on June 8 & 9. Zeke and I are practicing up a storm till then.

I think our next tour will be MUCH closer to home. Seattle, Olympia, maybe Bellevue or Woodinville or such. Whatever we can figure. Once again to visit folks we know and do house concerts. And another tour to the Olympic Peninsula and maybe Victoria on the way. We think we’d like to take a train with an overnight berth to the Bay Area. Maybe not till next year. It’s nice to be home.

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Tri-Cities, Boise, And Mom

We’re crossing the mountains next week, headed inland. It’s a big road trip for me and Zeke, and a bit of a pilgrimage as well. We get to play house concerts in Tri-Cities and in Boise on May 17 & 19. We’ll play tourist of course, and take a spoonful of Mom’s ashes to several places she loved along the way. Maryann Wood Breskin was an Idaho girl who grew up in Ustick and Boise. And since we get to play house concerts (thank you Micki Perry & Susan Elliot!) I’ve been thinking about songs I wrote for Mom. I’ll bring a few of those along to share. Here’s the chorus from the first song I ever wrote, for Mom’s 60th birthday. If you want to hear me sing it, click here:

I watched in your youth from a child’s point of view
Till I noticed that as I grew, you grew too.
Lately I’ve wondered if you really know
What a pleasure it’s been, Mother, watching you grow.

Zeke has written several new songs in this last period. There are politics to comment on of course, but now and again some new and unexpected viewpoint gives rise to a quirky, hilarious Zeke Song that could never come from any other mind.

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Trip To Boise, Idaho

We’re headed to Boise next month, to take some of Fl!p’s mom’s ashes (Maryann Wood Breskin) back to the farm where she was raised. We’re playing in Tri-Cities and then in Boise. We’re working on setting up more house concerts and workshops along the way. We’d even be delighted to come to YOUR house if it’s not too crazy far out of the way.

Her dad planted two Sycamore Maples to celebrate Mom’s birth in 1923. The photo below is of mom with her tree over 60 years later.

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Twangoleum!

Some of you have wondered about this very weird guitar that shows up from time to time in photos of me. Meet the Twangoleum! 

 I found the Twangoleum hanging in the window of an antique shop in Seattle, on Aurora Avenue in 1969. I nearly drove off the road! Unfortunately the window faced west and got hot in the afternoon. The only case was a green felt bag, and the instrument was pretty warped. Strung up with steel strings heavy enough to support the Brooklyn Bridge. The family who had sold it to the dealer said their father brought it home from Europe at the end of WWI!

It’s had a few periods of being played a LOT. The “alligator tail” prevents it from being barred up the neck, and the intonation was off from the warp in the face. The saddle has been relocated to try to deal with the intonation. In 1973 I handed it, on permanent loan, to Andy Cohen, who was playing a lot on the street. We were both living in Syracuse at the time. He had fallen madly in love with it and eventually gave it its name. Thereafter, I got occasional missives describing their adventures, plus a huge poster touting “A. Morris Meltzer-Cohen, the Twangoleum King” complete with a great photo. He said, “There’s only one of it, so I might as well be king of it.” He played it on the street for years, and it did its job. Lots of people stopped to listen! I had told Andy that if he were ever done with it, he should give it back. I had moved home to Bellingham, Washington state, right after I handed it to Andy. One night around 3 AM I got a phone call that began, “I’m done with it, and I’ve got it a ride.”

“Huh? What? Who?” Well, once we sorted out what “it” was, I learned that the Twangoleum was headed for Port Townsend, Washington. My benefactor stopped in Bellingham on the way to bring my baby back home. 

It’s history with me has a lot of connections with Port Townsend. I think Rick Ruskin had it for a while next. He’s a great player from Seattle. I have a vague recollection of Elizabeth Cotten playing it during one of her visits, during the late 1970s. It’s gotten around!” Kerry Char of Portland did a restoration that included removing the whole fingerboard and sliding it up towards the headstock until it played in tune again. 

John Jackson whittled it a new bridge pin out of a holly twig one morning at the first CENTRUM Blues Workshop in Port Townsend. The old pin had mysteriously disappeared and John wanted to play my baby! John leaned off the porch, broke a twig off a holly bush, and pulled out his pocket knife. The Twangoleum was passed hand-to-hand among a circle of old blues players, who were delighted to feel the alligator tail vibrate against their chests. It takes care to keep from banging the back of your fretting hand against that tail though. Backs of hands have no padding, and it hurts!

We just took the Twango back to Port Townsend for my brother Joe Breskin’s 72nd birthday concert. It never made it as far as the stage, but was passed hand to hand around the audience (lots of players) while we waited for the concert to get underway. (Music actually starts at about 27 minutes in on that concert link.)

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Steve Lalor Sings Zeke’s Song

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Our beloved Steve Lalor played One Man Rock Band when Zeke wrote a rock and roll song about the Nisqually earthquake in 2001. It’s called The Northwest Rock. I post this as a gift to all the folks who loved this man! Steve was the force behind the fabulous Seattle sixties band, The Daily Flash and made amazing music all his life. He taught me so much!