IN THE MOOD

My Mother at 18 Years

Harry James & Betty Grable

The other day while twiddling around with knobs I stumbled across the last 30 minutes of the 1954 movie, “The Glenn Miller Story” on ABC-TV. Actually, they weren’t knobs - I was fiddling with my remote control; one of them.  Knobs are almost outdated these days.

I wasn’t fiddling around with nobs, either. They’re few and far between around here, too; most are hidden within the walls of Downton Abbey or the like. I’m not, and never am, in the mood for hobnobbing!

Seeing the irreplaceable, endearing Jimmy Stewart as Glenn Miller, and the engaging June Allyson with her twinkling, smiling eyes playing his adoring wife on the screen before me, I had to stop, watch and listen. 

I grew up to the music of Glenn Miller.  It was through my mother and grandmother that I was introduced to Glenn and his band. I grew to love his music as much as they did. When Mum was in the mood, as she very often was, she’d sit for ages in front of the piano, her nimble fingers tickled the ivories of our Irving upright; they were putty in her hands.  

Our old steel-framed German-made Irving piano had been a wedding present to my grandmother and grandfather; my mother’s parents, on their wedding day.  It was a gift from a spinster aunt of my grandfather, Jack (John) Hay. 

The keys of that sturdy piano held more than one lifetime of stories and melodies. With a depth of tone as smooth as golden syrup I don’t remember it ever needing tuning. 

My mother was a brilliant pianist; at times she played in local dance bands.  I took piano lessons for five years from a Miss Gidley, a local piano teacher. Even though I passed all my exams with flying colours, I never did have my mother's expertise on those black and white keys.  I doubt I could even play Chopsticks these days!

I loved listening to and watching my mother play the piano.  She’d had lessons when she was a child, but she played by ear, as well.  Her talent at the piano was a natural talent; one not learned.  

Nana, Mum’s mother and I knew our limits when sitting on the piano stool. We played similarly.  Nana and I were no where near as good as Mum when it came to piano-playing.

Throughout my childhood and teen years rarely a day went by without piano music echoing through our home.  Situated next to the piano stood a cupboard packed tightly with sheet music; some of which dated from the early 1900s. Those treasured old sheets belonged to my grandmother.

My mother had many favourite songs; and all her favourites featured each time she sat at the piano.

 “Moonlight Serenade” was a favourite, amongst many, many others.

“Elmer’s Tune” was another; probably because, in name, it was pretty close to my mother’s first name, which was “Elma”!

Almost every day we joined Glenn Miller as he and his band members travelled aboard the “Chattanooga Choo Choo” on their way to “Tuxedo Junction”.

Having rung “Pennsylvania 6-5000” to make a date with his lady, he proudly exclaimed; ‘“I’ve Got a Gal in Kalamazoo”’. “At Last” he was going to present her with a “String of Pearls”!

While Glenn was doing his thing, Benny Goodman was “Puttin’ on the Ritz”, “Stomping at the Savoy”. In the meantime, the only thing his band mates could do was “Sing! Sing! Sing!” 

Benny told them, ‘“It’s Wonderful”, but “Don’t Be That Way”. Don’t let the “Stardust” get in your eyes. It’s difficult enough  when the ‘“Smoke Gets in Your Eyes!”’

He then turned to his “Honeysuckle Rose”, and said; ‘“After You’ve Gone”, “Oh! Lady Be Good”, otherwise “I’m Coming to Virginia” via “Avalon”’! 

I lost count how many times the beguine began!  I wish I had a dollar for each time, though!

Artie Shaw often strolled in tune to "The Donkey Serenade" along "Lambeth Walk" in the hope of missing the "Traffic Jam". Regularly at night, he was seen "Dancing in the Dark" while thinking "A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody"; especially "Sweet Lorraine".

Finding the "Temptation"  too strong to ignore, Artie told her; '"Any Old Time" - "I Get a Kick Out of You!" and "I Don't Want to Walk Without You"'!

The big band swing era of Miller, Goodman, Artie Shaw, Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Tommy Dorsey, Jimmy Dorsey and Harry James et al was a time filled with romance, glamour and great music.

Ellington told Basie to “Take the ‘A’ Train” while he went by “Caravan” because, he, Ellington liked to take his time, allowing him time to leisurely watch the “Autumn Leaves” change colour and fall.

Basie didn’t mind because he’d asked his “Lil’ Darlin’”, “Sweet Georgia Brown”, to spend “April in Paris” with him.  He'd planned a cruise “Up a Lazy River”. In his “Corner Pocket” he had a pair of “Shiny Stockings” to give her.

Tommy Dorsey told “Marie”; “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You”. "It's Started All Over Again"!  "Easy Does It" or “I’ll Never Smile Again”,  but  I guess “That’s How It Goes"!' 

Harry James told his second wife, Betty Grable;  ‘“It’s Been a Long, Long Time”, and “I Know You’ve Heard That Song Before”; but “You Made Me Love You”; so you have to shoulder some of the blame!” 

I class myself as being very fortunate to have grown up listening to the music of the maestros from a time long gone; an era never to be repeated, but hopefully never forgotten. 

I didn’t get to see Glenn Miller play in person, of course; but I did see The Glenn Miller Orchestra under the direction of Buddy De Franco perform at Brisbane’s Festival Hall on a Saturday afternoon in the early Seventies.

My friends and I were running a few minutes late, something I abhor; being punctual is one of my many quirks; but my legitimate excuse for that day is I was in the hands of others regarding travelling arrangements to the venue. 

The orchestra had just begun to play as we entered the main auditorium.  Tears immediately sprung to my eyes as the strains of “Moonlight Serenade” greeted us.  I will never forget that moment.

And then in 1973, on one hot, humid February night in the very same building, I was fortunate to be in the presence of Benny Goodman. Sitting on a stool on the stage, dressed in a tuxedo Goodman did what he did best, as cool as a cucumber. 

I kept waiting for Gene Krupa to appear, but of course, Krupa wasn’t travelling with Goodman at the time. 

Krupa died in October of 1973.  From when I was a small child I adored Krupa.  I adored drums…and Krupa was the master drummer. I had a glossy photograph of Gene Krupa on my bedroom wall throughout my childhood.  I’ve never lost my adulation for Krupa.

Peter Appelyard was the drummer playing in the Benny Goodman Orchestra that February night I sat in awe, listening and watching; sometimes in disbelief.  Appelyard was brilliant; but I was sure I sensed the spirit of Krupa on the stage that night!

Interval came and went.

The second half of the evening’s entertainment began with none other, of course, than….”Sing! Sing! Sing!” 

Needless to say…I was a quivering, misty-eyed mess with a smile as wide as the Great Australian Bight across my face as soon as I heard the first beat. 

It was a performance to savour.  Being in the audience; being in the presence of Goodman was so very special. 

Even though it was before my time, that night I felt I’d been transported back to the famous 1938 Carnegie Hall concert.  It was a magical experience.  There are not enough words to fully, completely describe the night….magical is probably the best I can come up with, for now.

I hope the music never dies.  I hope this generation and future generations are introduced to the brilliance of the musicians of that uniquely wonderful era. My other hope is that they learn to love the music; and appreciate its excellence.

As Red Nichols played; and Ella Fitzgerald often sang; “The Music Goes Round and Round”….