Brahms, Beethoven and Bach Don't Live Here!

Growing up in the Jensen household and not taking some musical lesson was like meeting the devil early. We all, with the exception of RJ I recall, had some musical training. No, not Carnegie type- routine band or hired hand piano teacher. Mom always had music playing in the house. The Hi-Fi was in fine tune by 9AM and worked well into the evening hours. South Pacific, Oklahoma, Mantovani and Shelley Berman and Bob Newhart were often guests in our home. As we got older, Kingston Trio and others also found their way to that turntable. (RJ's contribution to our musical history).

Family get to gethers would have mom at the piano and Uncle Harold and Uncle Derald singing along to old fight songs or nostalgic womanizer songs of the 40's. Dad, wisely, did not go along.

DJ was our clarinet player. Not quite ready for New Orleans, but good enough for Lincoln Jr. H.S. band. Sixth seat if memory serves. I recall him licking his clarinet and that little wood thingy before he had to play. I thought that was creepy, but hey, it was DJ.

Lou played the piano. She took piano lessons and actually became quite good, but other things were more important- like cleaning her room or washing the car.

Me, well, I took piano as well. I clearly recall my lack of practicing and the day came to take me to my lesson. A few miles away, mom dropped me off and in I went, music in hand to sit at the piano of my teacher with the tick-tock thingy knocking me off my timing. Within seconds, she said," You didn't practice did you." Busted. Nope- not a lick. "Well, then, you can practice that piece until your mom comes". IN AN HOUR!!!!! She began cooking her dinner while I pounded out some song that is still resting comfortably somewhere in Grand Junction.

My high point was grade school band, Hay-Edwards School. They needed musicians for certain instruments. What the heck- went in and they made me a baritone player. If you know anything about music, a baritone is a small tuba. We were supposed to practice at home and the band would meet during a class period and "gloss up" the music. Well, again, I hated the instrument. It was big, had a big case that the only decent thing it was good for was to use it as a slide. Hey, I did use it that way while waiting to go home from school. I was asked to leave because I was never, musically, with the rest of the band and very considerately asked to turn in my baritone. Bad day? Heck no.