Cheese Days were over. With my accordion, I had played for the polka lessons conducted by Steve and Sharon Streiff, and accompanied Toni Blum Seitz with Chris, Shannon, and Miriam, for some yodeling numbers. Next day, I headed for Sauk County to portray "Old Man Campbell," a bit part in an independently produced movie, "Arms of an Orphan," now in post-production. Time for a junket to New Mexico.
Readers of my previous column will recall the trip that never occurred, fiascoes that followed - the fall on the ice from which I escaped uninjured, and getting stuck in the snow at Henry Blumer's farm when we were rehearsing for another gig with Toni for Monroe Art Center's Showcase of Talent.
It was still early December. I had several events to attend that Friday evening. Following the art exhibition at MAC, I headed to the celebration honoring Sheriff Randy's long service to Green County. As I entered the crowded hall, Sheriff Randy cordially greeted me and we chatted a bit. I was milling about the hall and Jan Lefevre spotted me. I chatted with her, Art Carter, Mary Soddy, and others. It was time to leave for the tree lighting ceremony at Turner Hall.
Oops. The formal ceremonies started and there were people lined up around the hall and blocking the front door. I was on the opposite side of the room. I could have walked across the hall in front of everybody, through the crowd to the front door. But I didn't want to do that.
No problem - I was standing along side Dennis Dalton near a rear exit door. "Hey Dennis, I guess I can get out through here?" - more a statement then a question. As Dennis nodded, I exited, closing the rear door behind me.
I found myself on a dark balcony and circled it, looking for the stairway to the ground. Oops, no stairway. I was trapped.
I could have pounded on the door, "Hey Dennis, open the door - I'm trapped." Even if he heard me and opted to have mercy, I still would have had to walk in front of, and through, the crowd to get out the front door. The whole idea behind this fiasco was to remain inconspicuous.
There must be another way out of this jam. I circled the balcony again and discovered that the north end was just off the ground. So I just climbed over the rail and dropped effortlessly to the ground.
All I needed to make that "Keystone Cops" episode complete was for someone to spot a suspicious looking character in a trench coat climbing over the rail in the dark of night. Had they wanted to contact the law, both the incoming and outgoing sheriffs were in close proximity.
To my relief, there were no other characters, suspicious or otherwise, lurking in the shadows that night. So under cover of darkness, I stole away undetected and vanished into the soft winter night.
The holidays came and went. It was January and time for Henry and me to get serious about rehearsing with Toni.
I must confess to wondering - not about our ability to perform, but on how we would be received. Let's face it, there are all those bad accordion jokes out there, and outside the crowd that attends our monthly Squeezebox Night at Turner Hall, few people admit to liking accordions. We're the Rodney Dangerfield of musicians.
Toni is a super talented entertainer who enchants audiences with her energizing singing and yodeling. Yet outside our "Swiss Community," Swiss yodeling isn't on the radar screen of most folks.
At one point Henry was heard to say, "How come I let John talk me into this?" C'mon Henry, ya gotta get outside your comfort zone. I'm outside mine all the time. How do ya think I get into so much trouble? Gotta keep life from getting boring.
The three of us selected and rehearsed a couple of zippy numbers that might be crowd-pleasers, and figured that at least we would provide some colorful variety to the show.
Any reservations we might have had proved unfounded. Everyone from host Ron Spielman, he of golden voice, our talented director, Nadine Whiteman, the house band, and the entire cast could not have been more supportive. The audience response was terrific, especially the ovation Toni received during one of her yodeling strains for the Saturday performance. It was an energizing experience for all of us.
So, the Showcase of Talent completed and some other meetings and obligations out of the way, it was finally time to head for New Mexico to check out my adobe in romantic old Mesilla, see how my tenants were doing, and have some beer and Mexican food with former colleagues and friends. But first, some business in Chicago on Monday. I escaped Chicago just before the great blizzard and arrived in Monroe to snow, slippery roads, and forecast of blizzard.
I wouldn't leave on Tuesday. Nor Wednesday - the whole day spent digging out in town, and no water at the farm. Nor Thursday - with reports of icy roads in Kansas and Oklahoma, forget it. Besides, when it was below zero here it was, incredibly, zero in romantic old Mesilla. During my 11 years there, I never saw temp below the teens.
The next day when it was 6 degrees here, the map said 7 degrees in old Mesilla. I couldn't believe it. I called pals Willie and Clyde. They verified it was true. Another friend and former colleague, Jim in the Economics Department, e-mailed me that they closed NMSU down for three days because of the cold. Frozen pipes all over the place.
Forget it. I didn't want to go anyway. Why go to New Mexico to keep life from getting boring when it's so exciting here - after a fashion, anyway.
Well, I really did want to go. Maybe next week.
- Monroe resident John Waelti can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
Readers of my previous column will recall the trip that never occurred, fiascoes that followed - the fall on the ice from which I escaped uninjured, and getting stuck in the snow at Henry Blumer's farm when we were rehearsing for another gig with Toni for Monroe Art Center's Showcase of Talent.
It was still early December. I had several events to attend that Friday evening. Following the art exhibition at MAC, I headed to the celebration honoring Sheriff Randy's long service to Green County. As I entered the crowded hall, Sheriff Randy cordially greeted me and we chatted a bit. I was milling about the hall and Jan Lefevre spotted me. I chatted with her, Art Carter, Mary Soddy, and others. It was time to leave for the tree lighting ceremony at Turner Hall.
Oops. The formal ceremonies started and there were people lined up around the hall and blocking the front door. I was on the opposite side of the room. I could have walked across the hall in front of everybody, through the crowd to the front door. But I didn't want to do that.
No problem - I was standing along side Dennis Dalton near a rear exit door. "Hey Dennis, I guess I can get out through here?" - more a statement then a question. As Dennis nodded, I exited, closing the rear door behind me.
I found myself on a dark balcony and circled it, looking for the stairway to the ground. Oops, no stairway. I was trapped.
I could have pounded on the door, "Hey Dennis, open the door - I'm trapped." Even if he heard me and opted to have mercy, I still would have had to walk in front of, and through, the crowd to get out the front door. The whole idea behind this fiasco was to remain inconspicuous.
There must be another way out of this jam. I circled the balcony again and discovered that the north end was just off the ground. So I just climbed over the rail and dropped effortlessly to the ground.
All I needed to make that "Keystone Cops" episode complete was for someone to spot a suspicious looking character in a trench coat climbing over the rail in the dark of night. Had they wanted to contact the law, both the incoming and outgoing sheriffs were in close proximity.
To my relief, there were no other characters, suspicious or otherwise, lurking in the shadows that night. So under cover of darkness, I stole away undetected and vanished into the soft winter night.
The holidays came and went. It was January and time for Henry and me to get serious about rehearsing with Toni.
I must confess to wondering - not about our ability to perform, but on how we would be received. Let's face it, there are all those bad accordion jokes out there, and outside the crowd that attends our monthly Squeezebox Night at Turner Hall, few people admit to liking accordions. We're the Rodney Dangerfield of musicians.
Toni is a super talented entertainer who enchants audiences with her energizing singing and yodeling. Yet outside our "Swiss Community," Swiss yodeling isn't on the radar screen of most folks.
At one point Henry was heard to say, "How come I let John talk me into this?" C'mon Henry, ya gotta get outside your comfort zone. I'm outside mine all the time. How do ya think I get into so much trouble? Gotta keep life from getting boring.
The three of us selected and rehearsed a couple of zippy numbers that might be crowd-pleasers, and figured that at least we would provide some colorful variety to the show.
Any reservations we might have had proved unfounded. Everyone from host Ron Spielman, he of golden voice, our talented director, Nadine Whiteman, the house band, and the entire cast could not have been more supportive. The audience response was terrific, especially the ovation Toni received during one of her yodeling strains for the Saturday performance. It was an energizing experience for all of us.
So, the Showcase of Talent completed and some other meetings and obligations out of the way, it was finally time to head for New Mexico to check out my adobe in romantic old Mesilla, see how my tenants were doing, and have some beer and Mexican food with former colleagues and friends. But first, some business in Chicago on Monday. I escaped Chicago just before the great blizzard and arrived in Monroe to snow, slippery roads, and forecast of blizzard.
I wouldn't leave on Tuesday. Nor Wednesday - the whole day spent digging out in town, and no water at the farm. Nor Thursday - with reports of icy roads in Kansas and Oklahoma, forget it. Besides, when it was below zero here it was, incredibly, zero in romantic old Mesilla. During my 11 years there, I never saw temp below the teens.
The next day when it was 6 degrees here, the map said 7 degrees in old Mesilla. I couldn't believe it. I called pals Willie and Clyde. They verified it was true. Another friend and former colleague, Jim in the Economics Department, e-mailed me that they closed NMSU down for three days because of the cold. Frozen pipes all over the place.
Forget it. I didn't want to go anyway. Why go to New Mexico to keep life from getting boring when it's so exciting here - after a fashion, anyway.
Well, I really did want to go. Maybe next week.
- Monroe resident John Waelti can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net.
