Andie’s boyfriend, Eric, had a birthday soirée this evening at the old apartment. She made some great soup, perfect for the bitter cold weather. And Erica offered and artfully described the fine cheeses she purchased from the store at which she works. Martinis, Beefeater gin-and-tonics and bottled beers flowed freely; a rousing time was had by all.
On my way home, on the uptown platform of the 1 train at the 86th Street station, I found dropped or discarded on the ground two scraps related to music. First is this note about keys and instruments.
I also found a photo. It looks to be from the late ’50s or early ’60s, although it’s a reprint on modern Agfa paper. There’s something sublime in the woman’s smile that bewitches me. The lad on the right reminds me of myself at the same age, with the glasses, that overbite and bowl cut. And are those spats?
Where are they now? Do the kids fondly remember Mom’s skilled squeezeboxing, or did she play inexpertly to the feigned delight of those around her? Was it a passing fancy that Christmas or did the family make her drag it out for a quick polka on special occasions? Did she play traditional Lawrence Welk favorites like “Lady of Spain” or break it down with sassy versions of current pop hits like “Duke Of Earl” and “The Loco-Motion”?