A slight but minor one to be sure, but I\u2019ve enjoyed every moment (almost). Like most, my mother played the main role, because in the days just before, during, and after WWII, you did your entertaining at home. Most everyone was basically too poor to \u201cgo out,\u201d and one evening of drinks, dinner, and a movie would mean nothing else for the rest of the month.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n My parents had two pianos, one bass fiddle, a complete drum set, and various percussion instruments; thus friends and neighbors got together and provided their own entertainment without breaking anyone\u2019s budget. Of course I took piano lessons when I was a boy; who gave up first, I don\u2019t know\u2014my teacher, my mother, or me. Moving on, first the trumpet, then after that (two weeks tops) my father\u2019s alto sax. Then in high school, the baritone sax, which weighed a little less than my truck engine. In high school I started with the double (dog-house) bass fiddle. I found the fiddle more to my liking\u2014and less demanding, in that I only had to worry about one string at a time. A high school buddy, Ray Wells, said his girlfriend\u2019s brother played guitar, and, together with a friend named Jimmy Johnson, we got together and became a group known as \u201cThe Moonshiners.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Doing the standards of the forties and fifties, mostly Country & Western together with some Rock & Roll, we set forth to conquer the world of C&W\u2014forget the day jobs. Finding the world of high-end enter tainment filled to capacity, we kept our day jobs and worked usually Friday and Saturday nights in some strange and exotic places. I found trying to get out of harm\u2019s way, lugging a bass, and dodging beer bottles at the same time to be at least a different way of making a little extra money.<\/span><\/p>\n During this time, about 1956-57, I found myself playing two nights a week with a trio, two nights with The Moonshiners, two nights of practice\u2014one with the trio and one with the \u201cMooners\u201d\u2014and my Guard meeting on one night. My mother was going to work at 7:00 a.m. and my work schedule varied between late night and early morning. \u201cFolk\u201d music was starting to take off around 1959, and though I can\u2019t remember how, Howard Pelky, John Thomas, a youngster named Malcolm Stevens, and I got together\u2014Howard and John on banjo and guitar with vocals, me on bass and wherever, and Malcolm on bongos (Yes! bongos). Initially we were known as \u201cThe Travelers,\u201d but finding that name taken became \u201cThe Channel Singers.\u201d It was probably the most fun I\u2019d had in my young life, existence being somewhat freewheeling and nothing but good on the horizon for the country. In addition, I\u2019d sneak in with a group consisting of Bob Hoffman, Don Robertson, and Reily Jackson, the \u201cFreeway Singers,\u201d holding forth at Bud\u2019s Other Place down around Milpas and Carpinteria streets. Of course that changed dramatically in the mid-sixties, and I\u2019d finally gotten a full-time job as a Deputy Sheriff.<\/span><\/p>\n With this, I put the bass away for about 20-plus years until I was transferred to Transportation Bureau down at the old courthouse jail. There one day I heard the sounds of \u201cbluegrass\u201d coming from the old linen room and found two deputies, Mike Pritchard and Mike Lynch, pickin\u2019 up a storm. I made mention that in my misspent youth I played bass, and was told to bring it to work. So on lunch hour (after the Division Commander chased us way upstairs to the sixth deck), the three of us happily picked away.<\/span><\/p>\n For a few years the three of us played (sometimes with a fiddle player who worked for the Army Corps of Engineers), by and large for our own entertainment, not considering getting rich. Casting all modesty aside, we weren\u2019t bad. But, all good things come to an end, as they say, and both Mikes left the Department. I was sent to the main jail and, except for a little backup on a few occasions with a group from the German Club, I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve touched the bass in ten-plus years.<\/span><\/p>\n As I wrote this bit of deathless prose, I thought of a number of high points; like going to a performance by Joe & Eddie over at the Iopan<\/em> coffee house, something I will never forget. Two black guys, one white guitar player, and more music than one would dream possible. They did two numbers in particular\u2014\u201cJohn Henry\u201d and \u201cThere\u2019s A Meetin\u2019 Here Tonight\u201d\u2014each lasting about 15-20 minutes; same words with totally different treatment and arrangement. Mind-boggling!<\/span><\/p>\n When The Channel Singers were work-ing at the new Nexus, a rebuilt walnut-shelling shed-cum-bar where a Taco Bell now stands (across <\/b>the road on Hollister Avenue from where the original Nexus had been situated), I\u2019d sneak in a jam with Sheri\u00a0Lynn Geiger when she was working there. She lives and works around Cambria, and I\u2019ve not seen her for many years–I\u2019ll wager she still hasn\u2019t learned \u201cFarewell, Angelina.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Probably other things will jump back in my memory, but I say these were about the happiest days of my life, and so many good times, good friends, and talented people I was privileged to know. As old-age senility, physical deterioration, and short-term memory loss take their toll, thoughts of these times and those people will serve to keep me warm on the cold winter nights.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Ernie Brooks My Brush with a Career in Music A slight but minor one to be sure, but I\u2019ve enjoyed every moment (almost). Like most, my mother played the main role, because in the days just before, during, and after … Continue reading