I dread making the phone call to the Polka Queen (AKA Alice Aman), my former accordion teacher. I leave a garbled message on her cell phone about my slow, stiff fingers being unreliable because of Parkinson’s Disease and that I won’t be playing with her group at Oktoberfest in Denver this year. My days of playing the accordion in public are over.
Ten days later she returns my call. I nervously reiterate my message. “No problem,” she says, “but can you just come, sit in the band and look like you are playing? I’m just looking for bodies.”
Knowing Alice’s dream of having 100 accordionists play at Oktoberfest and that she is willing to sacrifice quality for quantity, I reluctantly agree to show up and look like I’m playing.
I have a nightmare that night about being an accordionist impersonator. At Oktoberfest, I play in Alice’s band. I open and close the bellows of my accordion by pushing the air button with the index finger of my left hand. The fingers of my right hand flit over the keys, but I don’t press down so no sound comes out. It’s PERFECT until the TV news station arrives to tape this performance. When they place their microphone next to my accordion, they are puzzled that all of my squeezing results in no music. I am exposed as a fraud, guilty of being an imposter.
But I’ll gladly do it for Alice and hope that 99 other accordionists are there to cover for me.
For more info on the Polka Queen, check out the story written by her daughter-in-law, Mel Aman, who describes the Aman family as “Every person in the remarkable immediate Aman family is a musician. All of them. Think Partridge family on steroids.” It’s at: http://www.examiner.com/band-wife-in-denver/the-polka-queen-is-my-mother-law
The good thing about your information is that it is explicit enough for students to grasp. Thanks for your efforts in spreading academic knowledge.
Posted by: How to be an alpha male | September 16, 2010 at 12:56 AM