Musical grandfathers.

I guess everybody in the 'business' claims to have one. "I learned this song from my grandfather ...blah, blah." Well, I had two grandfathers like everyone else, but neither what would fit the definition of 'musical'. My dad's old man could whistle pretty damn good. He had the vibrato thing going and the whole nine yards. But he whistled show tunes and stuff. When you have lived through a depression I figure you can whistle any damn thing you want to and nobody can say anything. But it wasn't much inspiration.

My mom's father loved music, but he couldn't sing a lick. There is a family rumor of an acetate with him singing "The Old Rugged Cross" hidden somewhere. And I would love to hear it, no joke. But I stood beside him in church, I heard him singing under his breath to "Holy, Holy, Holy", and when I raised the hymnal up closer so he could read it instead of mumble it, he waved a hand like if someone offered you a smoke and you were refusing it, "No, No, I don't sing in church...."

So I had to adopt a musical grandfather for the sake of future interviews. I checked out Woody Guthrie - he was a little weird for me, which led me to Pete Seeger. "Sailin' up…sailin' down" ; I sang along with good ol' Pete to his songs about the Hudson River and Chang Kia Chek ("The three rules of discipline and the eight rules of attention" - or was it the other way around? ) Whatever, I didn't even care he was a Yankee Socialist or even COMMUNIST. He was my granddad, and I'll bet there are more people out there but they are scared to admit it. Oh, I have been mocked, but those mockers have never seen him live.