THE MUSIC CRITIC

Before electric powered record players were invented, we had Victrolas. The Victrola had to be wound by a crank on the side, which activated a spring and turned the turntable. Aunt Sarah, Grandma's older sister, had in her music room one of these Victrolas, which I listened to when I visited her. Aunt Sarah's musical taste ran to classical music sung by John McCormack, the leading concert tenor of that day. I also heard music in church. This was all the music I ever heard until I was five or six years old. I was a complete stranger to popular music and I didn't accept it without a struggle.

Chautauqua came to Howard, Kansas, every summer. Chautauqua consisted of shows and programs and even lectures. The traveling entertainers would pitch a big tent and sell tickets to their tent shows; thus, small villages were given a taste of culture each summer.

In 1925 or 1926, I attended Chautauqua and heard a lady sing a new song called My Blue Heaven. She gave that song everything she had, and that young lady really knew how to belt out a tune, complete with gestures. I cowered in my chair, flushed with embarrassment for that girl because it was plain to see she was making a fool of herself. I may have been the only person in the whole country who didn't like My Blue Heaven, for it went on to become an American standard and is still sung occasionally.


Childhood Memories of a Girl Called Ellen Louise
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