Pete Fallico Remembers Little Richie Varola

There is now a Facebook page to honor Little Richie Varola, perhaps one of the greatest contemporary organ players. Richie Varola died in a car crash in 1974. He powered the Louis Prima band in some of its last years before Prima went into a coma after brain surgery. But, as you'll read; he was more than just Louis Prima's organ player. By permission, Pete Fallico (www.doodlinlounge.com).

Little Richie Varola

It's time to remember Richie Varola...it's time to talk about him again and read his name in print and above all, it's time to hear his music once more! We must reissue his recordings and sift through those tapes he left behind in order that our younger musicians can hear the brilliance he possessed.

The nineties proved to be a true renaissance period for Jazz Organ music. The Jazz Organists who survived the hey-day of this musical era were given a second chance at the brass ring with new recording contracts, magazine articles and festival tributes. Equally fortuitous has been the number of younger players who have taken to the Hammond organ because of this revival mode and the commitment they've made to its preservation. The sad reality, however, has been the unconscious neglect of those players who passed on before their contributions were truly acknowledged.

Today, record producers are scrambling to retrieve music posthumously from Don Patterson, Larry Young, Baby Face Willette and others. It is my contention that Richie Varhola (or 'Little' Richie Varola as he came to be known) should be on this list of Jazz Organists receiving this attention. He was one of the most exciting and entertaining Jazz Organists of all time and deserves acknowledgement and respect. With this story I hope that 'Little' Richie Varola will rise again in the musical consciousness of this country and the world.

He was born Richard Varhola on September 17, 1943 in Butler, Pennsylvania. His Czechoslovakian parents had two other sons: Jimmy and Tom. Richie (who was known in his family as Dick) was a true child prodigy with an unbelievable gift of music. His mother, Helen Varhola, explains how this gift was first realized. "He started to play at the age of three", she says, "and it was all on his own. I wanted to get a piano so badly because I really wanted to play and I loved the piano...but he took to it so well and started to play all on his own. After we came home from seeing the movie, 'The Jolson Story' and he loved the songs, and we stayed 'til the end of the movie, he started to play the songs with one finger. His father would come home in the evening and sit down and start to chord with him...and Dick just picked up everything so easily because he never had a music lesson. In fact, we tried to give him a music lesson but the music teacher said she couldn't do anything because he had everything memorized...when he heard a song".

Richie's talent was certainly recognized by his parents at this preschool age but it wasn't long before relatives would also express their amazement and encourage him to play publicly. Richie's uncle was a school teacher and began bringing young Richie to the local, one-room school in Dillsburg, Pennsylvania, to play for the students. "The principal of the school thought Richie was a genius" recalls his mother. The principal invited the newspaper people to come out and photograph this four year old wonder...and they called him a child prodigy. Richie began listening to the organist on station WHP. Then his parents began taking him to an organ dealer in Harrisburg called Troups and the salesman there would let Richie sit in the show window and play the organ. There was also an organist in York who paid a lot of attention to Richie and gave him some fundamental instruction. As soon as he would see young Richie come into this night club with his parents, he would begin playing a special tune for him...and he would invite Richie up to the organ to play by himself. Richie's father (who was a carpenter) built him a special set of pedals along with a stool so that he could actually press them as he played.

When Richie's father came home from the army, he was amazed to hear his son singing tunes like Rum and Coca-Cola or Inka Dinka Do that he would learn from listening to their Stewart-Warner record player day after day.

"Dick was very popular in school", remembers Helen, "Naturally, he played for everything that was going on...and then they were on television for five years, he and his brother... They were here on a local station in Harrisburg, WHP...every Wednesday, Dick would play the piano and they would harmonize together. I should have done something about that. I'm sure we could have got the tapes of those shows. They were on the Jack Paar Show, the Jackie Gleason show...They made a couple of records..." Jimmy Varhola who was four years younger than Richie remembers these days with pride.

"I started to sing with Dick before I went to school", remembers Jimmy, "We were entertaining professionally when I was four years old and he was eight...of course, he had started to entertain in the local clubs in Butler before he was four years old...I never knew a life different than that."

Helen Varhola remembers Richie at nine years and Jimmy at five years but regardless of their age at that time, she felt they always looked a lot younger than what they really were.

"Richie could hear something once and as soon as he heard it, it was memorized and he could do anything with it", Jimmy continues, "The other thing that drove you crazy about Richie is that he had perfect pitch...and if you named a note, Richie could sing it for you."

Eventually, they would include their younger brother Tom in on a few tunes but in the early days, Richie and Jimmy brought fame to their family with this duo they called The Musical Pee Wees. Jimmy still has posters that advertised the two young boys playing in various local venues. Helen Varhola recently moved from the Harrisburg home where she lived for so many years but still holds on to her memorabilia . "I have so many different pictures and things", she says, "In fact, my daughter-in-law has one wall in her den of different things...people can't get over it."

Richie and Jimmy played throughout grade school and high school and they even attempted commercial success with a 45 record called Tootsie Roll which was a variation of Julius Dixon's Lolli Pop. While in high school, Richie formed a group called the 'Six Cards' but it was a fellow named Andy Angelucci who would bring Richie to another level of musicianship. One night he dropped by the Varhola home to ask if he could take young Richie on the road with him. This was the true beginning of Richie's career.

Andy Angelucci is now retired from the music business but he spent decades in the thick of it. He was a school teacher in central Pennsylvania who also had a band that would play during the summer months in the lounges of Atlantic City. Eventually he left teaching and toured his group regionally and, with Richie's help, through the Reno and Las Vegas circuit.

"I sorta 'found' Richie", says Andy, "I was a school teacher when I started out and I was teaching here in Harrisburg and we went to some kind of a seminar (a Mosque in Harrisburg) and they had a big organ there. We're talking...and I hear this organ. I look down there and there's a kid. He couldn't have been more than about fifteen years old when I met him. He could hardly reach the pedals but all the notes were there and the guy played tremendous. I went down and talked to him because, to tell you the truth, I was going down to Atlantic City and playing in the summers when I wasn't teaching. I went to Club Harlem on Kentucky Avenue and I heard Wild Bill Davis and Jack McDuff and guys like this. I was looking for somone to play organ and I said to Richie, 'I'd like to talk with your father'. So I went over to his house and talked to his father and I said 'I'd like to use Richie and I know he's young to play in nightclubs and so forth but he's got a lot of talent and I'd like to use him in my group'."

Richie's mother and father knew how much Richie loved music and felt it was only a matter of time before Richie would be emersed in it. They consented to Richie joining this group plus, as Helen recalls, "Dick wanted a Hammond organ so badly".

"So his Dad gave him permission to play", says Andy, "He was playing piano and I wanted him to play organ, he just had a natural talent for it. So what I did...I took him down to Atlantic City and let him hear Wild Bill Davis and Jack McDuff and Jimmy Smith and guys like this. He just took to it so fast, I mean...when I first heard him he was playing kind of commercial-type organ and (when) he heard these guys, the style just came to him naturally. He was a natural musician because when I first got him, the first thing I said to him was, 'We're gonna do I Get a Kick Out of You in E flat'...and he said, 'What does that mean?'...He had no idea what key he was playing in. He had perfect pitch and he was just one of those guys that could hear something and play it. I was lucky to discover him".

Andy had a five piece band at this time. Ed Easton was his tenor player and he soon became one of Richie's closest friends. Ed fondly recalls these early days with Richie. "Richie was like my brother. He used to call me his teacher because when we played in Atlantic City, we went to see all the famous organists like Jack McDuff, Milt Buckner, Shirley Scott...all of them. Richie must have been only sixteen or seventeen". Both Ed and Andy remember bringing young Richie to places in Atlantic City and sneaking him in or standing by the doors so that Richie could hear the real sound of Jazz Organ. They all were amazed at how Richie picked up the Jazz Organ style so quickly and naturally.

"The first time I met Richie", Ed recalls, "we were having a rehearsal at his house and Richie came to the door to let me in and I said to Andy, 'Who's that who let me in' and he said, 'That is the new organist!' I think he was like fifteen or so". Ed remembers doing local things up around Harrisburg and York, Pennsylvania with Andy's group. "We did a whole mess of little clubs like that...all over the East Coast. I never went to Vegas with Andy, I quit before that... I stayed around York and Harrisburg with my own group".

Richie did travel with Andy to Nevada, however, and as fate would have it, was seen and heard by Sam Butera the musical director for Louie Prima's band. Louie Prima with Sam Butera and the Witnesses was a premier lounge act throughout the Las Vegas-Lake Tahoe-Reno circuit in those days. Few if any other groups were playing with such excitement and providing such entertainment value.

Helen Varhola's recollection of this period in Richie's life goes like this: "Louie saw Dick and I guess he wanted, the way Dick tells us, Danny Thomas and whoever else had an 'in' with him, I think Frank Sinatra, to hear how an organ would sound with his group...and then he hired him...and Dick stayed with Andy a couple more weeks and then went with Louie".

Sam Butera's recollection is that he first saw Richie playing with Andy Angelucci's group at the Sands Hotel: "He was a wonderful player", says Sam, "and a nice little guy...Louie loved him and I did too...the whole band loved him".

Richie had been with Andy's band six years and now Louie Prima had heard them and was enthralled with Richie's playing. Louie began to bring Andy's entire band with them where ever they worked, providing them with lots of work and actually encouraging Andy to refine his show into a real lounge act. Louie even suggested that Andy change his last name to 'Angel' which he did. To this day, Andy uses the name, 'Andy Angel', professionally.

Andy had lost the star of his band but was certainly not bitter. He understood the necessity of Richie moving upward in his career."Once he got with those guys," says Andy, "I think he studied a while because he was writing and everything else. He was just a genuine natural talent. We missed him when he left because we went with Capitol Records; they had heard us with Richie. They were going to record us...well, it wasn't the same without him and they shelved everything we did. Richie was the force in our group at that particular time". Andy would replace Richie with another organist named Danny Grant who, later, would go down to Nashville to record but Andy felt lucky to find someone who wanted to follow in Richie's path. "And I was fortunate to find somebody like that", Andy confirms, "because to follow Richie would be very, very tough...there will never be another Richie as far as I'm concerned...This guy had it all. He probably would have gone on to better things had he lived longer. He would have been a superstar, there's no doubt about that, he had the talent. He added so much to Louie's group. When Richie got with him it was just that much better. I think that (Louie) would have done a lot more for Richie had he stuck on because he was promoting his name along with Sam's name: Sam Butera and the Witnesses featuring Richie Varola". By this time Louie had also persuaded Richie to change the spelling of his last name. It can be surmised that Louie was trying to make the name sound 'more Italian', if you will.

I asked Helen what she and her husband thought about this name change at the time. She said: "I don't know why he did that because a lot of people thought it was an Italian name (already)...maybe he shortened it because it looked better on the jackets of the records or something..." Jimmy Varhola felt the name change was insignificant to Richie, saying: "He liked it...he didn't care...it has a smoother role to it, you know, taking the 'h' out of there, 'Varola'... I'm not so sure Louie could have pronounced the 'h' in 'Varhola' anyway!". From this point on, Dick Varhola was known as 'Little' Richie Varola.

Joining Louie Prima's band right around that same period of time was another musician named Kenny Harkins. Kenny and Richie would become best friends. Here's Kenny's version of how things got rolling for Richie: "Richie came to town with Andy Angelucci because Louie Prima had seen Andy's group and wanted them to work at the Sands Hotel opposite his group...and so one of the reasons Louie asked them to come was because he was already interested in hiring Richie to go to work for his group. I got off Si Zentner's Band and three days later went to work for Louie Prima and three days after I got with the band, Richie joined the band. As soon as I heard Richie, I said, 'Well, there goes my stay with Louie!' 'cause I knew immediately that they didn't need another piano player...but I stayed on and played piano and trumpet with the group...and got to hear Richie every night which was an extreme pleasure for me".

Never before had Louie Prima used an organ in his group. "Louie always had the piano-shuffle thing", Kenny continues, "with piano, bass, drums and guitar. As you know organ music is like high energy stuff. It's fun music and when Richie played organ with the group, he also played bass lines. The bass player and him played bass lines together and it just added an ingredient to the group that was just phenomenal to listen to... The more energy he got out to that room, the better Louie liked it... and, of course, in addition to being a great player, Richie was all over the keyboard physically...and it wasn't just shtick! He got so into it that he moved over the thing like an octopus..." 'The Mighty Might' was a nickname Kenny used for Richie. "He was probably 5' 5" at best, recalls Kenny, "He was a short little guy... but he was all over the Hammond...in fact, a lot of times, he would play the Hammond standing up. He would stand on the footpedals and play his solos".

Richie began to take his playing to another dimension, almost a theatrical level, while still using the basic stops and stylings of his heroes: Jimmy Smith and Jack McDuff. "I think Richie did the same thing that I did", says Kenny, "just observed certain organ settings that other organ players would use and start with those and then your own ear sorta tells you which way to expand for what kinda music you're going for..."

Richie definitely taught Kenny some tricks on the organ...and those who came to hear and watch Richie were eager to learn and cop licks as well.

Kenny and Richie joined Louie Prima's band in April of 1966... Kenny left in 1969 and Richie left in 1971 (some say '72). While with Louie Prima, Richie was featured in their lounge act and showcased on the many television shows that Louie Prima's band was invited to (The Dean Martin Show, for example). It's been said that Louie even helped Richie join the National Guard so that his musical career wouldn't be interrupted by the Viet Nam War. While Richie would attend his weekend meetings or go to summer camp with the army, Kenny (reportedly) would take over the chores of organist for the band. Richie appeared on only one or two of Louie Prima's recordings (to the best of my knowledge). He is featured playing tunes like Spinning Wheel and MacArthur Park on the Quad (# 0030) release called Blast Off! The Live New Sound of Louis Prima and Sam Butera helped him record a self-titled album of his own for Verve Records (Verve #8722) in 1967.

Richie's renditions of Organ Grinder's Swing, Slaughter on Tenth Avenue, Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf and Walk on the Wild Side are chilling examples of his huge talent and undeniably high rating amongst the popular Jazz Organists. Jimmy Varhola supports this by saying: "Jimmy Smith was Richie's idol, in fact, Richie was so excited when he made his LP album, he got a rating in downbeat and I remember him calling me up and telling me about getting an average rating in downbeat for his album but that it took Jimmy Smith four albums to even get rated..." Helen Varhola adds this: "He loved progressive jazz...you remember Jack McDuff? They compared him to Jack McDuff and I think it was Jimmy some-other-one...(Jimmy Smith?) yeah that's his name". I had also heard that when Richie was still very young, he had approached Jack McDuff while Jack was appearing in a music store and that Jack had spent a lot of time talking and discussing music with Richie.

Richie's parents were enormously proud of him and traveled out West to see his performances with Louie Prima and visit with him. "Whenever we went to Vegas", says Helen Varhola, "my husband was so proud of him, he didn't miss one show and he taped every show". These tapes were kept at the Varhola home until Richie's father passed away. Richie came home for his father's funeral and took the tapes and many recording with him back to Los Angeles. As Helen remembers, "When Dick came home this one time, his father was gone...and he took all that with him, plus a lot of pictures, and now I feel so bad because, of course I blame myself...". The saddest part of the 'Little' Richie Varola story, however, was yet to come.

After leaving Louie's band, Richie began to take his music into the world of Jazz/Rock/Fusion. Two other musicians would join forces with Richie in this new direction: Guitarist Ronnie James and drummer Michael Buono. With them, Richie began experimenting with the newly introduced synthesizers and became a pioneer in the use of keyboards in conjunction with the Hammond organ. Ronnie adds this: "Richie was one of the first guys to get an ARP synthesizer. It was a brand new company and they gave him two. He played the two ARPs and the organ and he was playing bass on one of the ARPs". Michael remembers this new group being called either 'The Sixth of July' or 'Energy'. "At one point, there were six of us", he remembers, "and that may have been two female singers (Irene Cathaway was one) and Dave (Tallisman) but that didn't last too long. I believe it became Energy when it was just the three of us".

Ronnie's recollections of how he first met Richie and how they moved through the Prima band together and eventually into this band known as 'Energy' are cogent and emotional. "I first saw Richie on TV a couple of times and then I saw him the year before; I was in Vegas with another group from Philly...and I went to see Louie's show at the Sands and he knocked me out. I never saw anybody play organ like that". Eventually Ronnie accepted a job with the Louie Prima Band and soon became Richie's closest friend. "The first day I was in Vegas, I was staying in a little hotel and Richie came by to go over some arrangements with me because I was going to open that night and all I can say is from that point forward, we laughed and we said some things to each other and we just knew that we were going to be musically compatible and friendly". Both Richie and Ronnie would go on to become favorite soloists in the band and were given ample space to demonstrate their chops each show.

As time progressed, however, Richie and Ronnie began hearing the pop tunes of the early seventies in relation to the music they were doing every night with the Prima band. They felt the need to stretch and took every opportunity they could to play outside the arrangements they were locked into. As Ronnie recalls; "One of the happiest times was immediately following the show; the last chord we would play in the show when the curtain came down would be the one Richie would take and go somewhere with. It was just Richie and I left on the stage, everybody else would leave. We would jam on something; he would go into 'The Song Is You' or one of these standard tunes...and a couple of times, we'd finish and the audience would still be there. They would burst into applause and we'd go, AHH!...'cause we didn't know they were still out there". Richie and Ronnie yearned for a hipper sound. They were being inspired by groups like Chicago and Blood, Sweat & Tears and wanted to build their own rhythm section with similar dynamics. They began to jam regularly with other musicians, some from Richie's past, like Ed Easton, and others who knew and felt the new sound they wanted. Michael Buono was one such musician who came by and wound up staying with Richie and Ronnie. "We knew that we wanted something different than what was going on in our lives at that time", says Michael, "which was around 1972. So they invited me down to the dressing room at Harrah's Club. I drove down with my drums and Richie took the B-3 off the stage at the lounge and we plugged everything in and, without knowledge of what might happen, I just started kicking off a beat and then Richie joined in and Ronnie joined in and it was just...it was true fusion. It was like a catharsis, just a release from all the 'sameness' that we'd been doing night after night".

'Energy' played on the West Coast primarily but did manage to go on the road briefly. "I think the furthest East we went", recalls Michael, "was Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I remember I had a Toyota Land Cruiser and it pulled a huge trailer and the four of us were in that car; it was just an amazing trip".

Jimmy Varhola adds this: "Richie was working toward, what we call today, the 'Rock Concert' type of event. Things were really starting to go together out in Los Angeles. He was heading into the Rock concert style with a jazz flavor to the whole thing; that's where his group was moving. Richie was one of the forerunners in the use of the synthesizers, at that stage, doing some interesting stuff...very innovative".

Richie even had different ideas about the sacred Hammond organ and Leslie Tone cabinet set-up. He modified his Leslies by removing the spinning drum beneath the 15 inch driver, to give, what he felt was a bigger and more sustained sound. "He took his (drum) out", recalls Kenny, "He claimed that the bass became crisper and didn't move around, constantly providing a good bottom...and I agree with him, I think it's much better 'cause you get the chorale sound in the Leslie speaker in the top end anyway, 'cause it rotates."

The 'Little' Richie Varola story was to come to an abrupt end just as it began this apparent upward spiral to stardom. Richie was working at a club called 'Fire and Flame' in Los Angeles. One night, after work, he got in a fatal automobile accident.The news of Richie's sudden death spread through the music world instantly.

Jimmy Varhola will never forget the phone call he received from Richie's wife, Connie. His duty to inform his mother of Richie's unbelievable fate was almost too much to handle. As Helen Varhola recalls: "We went to Vegas three times to see Richie and I was just getting ready to go to California when I had my bags packed and everything, and I got notified of his accident; Connie called my other son. It was in '74...Richie was thirty."

Richie Varola died April 29, 1974. The world lost one of the most gifted musicians ever to have lived and the Varhola family would never be the same. "I know Connie told me she was going to do something with his music", reminisces Helen. "I was so bad when that happened to him...that...I know Jimmy was too. Even now to this day, when I think about him, it's so hard because he had so much to live for and he was such a good kid. I'm just so happy that someone still thinks about him and remembers him".

At the wake held in Riverside at the 'Fire and Flame', Kenny recalls seeing people who he would not have suspected even knew of Richie. The fame Richie had acquired was more wide spread than anyone thought. Ed Easton recalls the musical tribute paid by Richie's friends later on at The Four Queens in Las Vegas: "When we did the tribute to Richie at the Four Queens. Allen Grant had the show there...and we used Richie's organ and a Leslie Speaker and we had a drummer and a guitar player...I have the tapes from that but there is some other tapes from a radio show, for PBS, it was heard all over the country...but it was a tribute to Richie and in the middle of it, Kenny Harkins gave a little talk...it was a shame Richie wasn't there to do it himself...but that's the way things go." Andy Angelucci even got together with others in Harrisburg to pay tribute to Richie. He was able to raise some money with his benefit show to send to Richie's wife, Connie.

Remembering Richie and his shortened life and career is particularly difficult for Sam Butera: "He had big ears...very talented young man. It's a shame he left us when he had such a wonderful future in front of him..." Sam admits the love and energy that Richie brought to the Witnesses and even tried to bring in other organists after Richie to recapture that sound. "It made the sound bigger", he says. Today, Sam feels no one could replace Richie Varola. "No...I can't find anyone comparable to Richie. He was one of a kind" In a recent conversation with Sam Butera, I reminded him of the wonderful recording he made with Richie and asked him if he knew of any others. "I listened to it the other day", admits Sam. "He was most talented", Sam continues, "He could play anything. I wish I could tell you more but I can't tell you more, other than I loved the way he played and I loved him as a young man".

Kenny comments: "He was like a fountain-wealth of music...when he started to play a solo, it was like a never ending mountain of fresh ideas...I always thought of him like: If John Coltrane had ever played organ, that's what Richie played organ like. I mean just sheets of sounds with ideas upon ideas upon ideas, never getting tired".

"I've never stopped thinking about him", admits Ronnie, "There's not a musical moment that goes by that I don't think of Richie... It really shook me up because we had something that was really special".

Jimmy Varhola says this: "There's so much energy in Richie's style..you could just feel it. He was irresistible... the last time I saw him, April the year before, my wife and I had gone out to visit them at North Shore Lake Tahoe, (Jimmy had kept his singing up by performing in the barbershop quartet style which he still does today)...and Richie had a sound-on-sound recorder and we made a couple of different quartet tapes where we'd sing two parts to the songs."

Everyone agrees that if Richie had lived a full life, he would have gone on to become one of the world's greatest and best known musicians. I can only hope that this story on Richie Varola will stimulate others to come forth and contribute thoughts and ideas so that the world can hear more of his music and understand his contribution, albeit short in years, in the proper perspective. 'Little' Richie Varola brought Jazz Organ to another level and will always deserve our audience. He was truly 'One-of-a-Kind'.

Pete Fallico - September 1999

A Truly Capital Failure

Last night, the Washington Capitals pulled off one of the great vanishing acts in the history of professional sports. The only non-Original Six team ever to break 120 regular-season points had won the President's Trophy and was seemingly a lock to get to the Stanley Cup finals, if not win the Cup outright. Look at all that talent. Ovechkin. Varlamov. Theodore. Backstrom. Green. Fehr. Hart, Norris, Vezina--all on one team.

Then, fate. Or, perhaps, reality.

The Caps, the Red already Rockin', were up 3 games to 1 before having the opportunity to finish off the lowly eighth-seeded Habs in their own building. They couldn't. Back to Centre Bell. Interesting that both arenas are named for phone companies. Drop a dime. Montreal, with absolutely nothing to lose, came out fast and furious and buried Washington on the shoulders of Jaroslav Halak, not to mention the ghosts of Jacques Plante, Gump Worsley and the living aura of Ken Dryden, probably watching from Toronto with a voodoo doll. Halak may have physically made those 131 series saves, but it was Plante, Worsley and Dryden who saw the pucks and pulled Halak's strings. Not that Halak is a bad goaltender. By no means. But he couldn't see half those shots. The ghosts could. Hell; even Bunny Laroque probably got in a couple of saves.

It also didn't help that the Caps were nervous, tentative; unable to truly pull the trigger. Count the number of times the Caps had wide-open shooting lanes and opted, instead, to work it in closer. Backfired. All the things that got Washington to 120 points and the President's Trophy were missing by the end of the first period Wednesday night. Gone. Try as they may, the magic just wasn't there anymore. The Caps weren't just beaten by Montreal, they were beaten by Les Canadiens; the New York Yankees of hockey. But you don't get that far and lose without beating yourself, which they did. Badly.

Several #1 seeds have lost opening series. But only the Caps have blown a 3 games to 1 lead in the process. Dubious and embarassing.

Remember when Ben Crenshaw won the 1995 Masters? One of the first things out of his mouth after he stopped sobbing was saying he had Harvey Penick (who had passed away the week before the Masters, I think) in his bag that day. Anyone who had Harvey for a golf teacher (Ben Crenshaw, Tom Kite, Sandra Palmer, etc.) would tell you he made golf more fun than you could imagine. He made you achieve without making you do a thing...because you had so much damned fun bangin' golf balls and listening to the master. Bring that fun on the golf course; you can't help but win.

Wednesday night, the Caps didn't have Harvey Penick, or Bobby Orr, or even a prayer in their bag. They were out of gas, but, even worse, weighted down with the failures of years past. It wasn't fun at all.

It is not the first time the Caps have choked. But this time, there were no excuses. They had the talent. They had the coach. They had the fans. They were a machine in the regular season. Auto mechanics have a saying: "Cars run best just before they blow." Perhaps that's what happened when the Caps were up 3-1.

It's easy to be an armchair quarterback. We don't have to go out there and play. We don't know what Bruce Boudreau did when he went home Wednesday night. Same for Ovie, Eric Fehr, Varly; even Jose Theodore. What we do know is one of the best regular-season NHL teams in the last 30 years couldn't make it happen when it really mattered. Next year--get in the playoffs through the back door, save your regular-season energy and win the damned Cup. This time--you owe us. We've seen enough.

Life Comes Full-Circle

All of us have been influenced by others in our lives. Most whom I've glanced off of in my life know me as a broadcaster. And there--I have many influences; too many to mention here.

But, perhaps, my biggest individual earthly influence in my life--then to now--has been a guitar teacher.

I first met Frank Mullen in 1969. My father was searching for someone to "take me to the next level." I guess he figured it was his money buying my toys; I should actually learn to play with them. My father had many contacts and got in touch with Frank through a friend, jazz legend Charlie Byrd, who, in so many words, said if I could get in with Frank; I should at all cost.

Frank Mullen taught upstairs at the old walk-up Sophocles Papas Guitar Shop (aka The Guitar Shop) on Connecticut Avenue, which I believe is still there. For the uninitiated--Papas was to the modern-day classical guitar what Yehudi Menuhin was to the violin. Papas could sit down with a $90 Goya and make it talk. Papas was worshipped and the back room on the first floor was reserved for him--and his students. You rarely saw him.

I was a very nervous 14 year old when I got off the DC Transit bus at 20th and K that first day. Back then, kids could ride for a quarter and Metro wasn't even on the drawing board. I brought my '65 Fender Telecaster, bought from junior high classmate Humphrey Astorga for $250 in 1968. If you're not aware; that guitar today--even in so-so condition, can bring thousands. Back then, it was "Pre-CBS," meaning it was made before Fender was bought out by CBS in 1967-68. What's funny about this is the CBS-made Fender gear was just fine, but lore had made it such that no one would be caught dead with "Post-CBS" Fender gear. Now--the Post-CBS Fender stuff is also worth thousands. Go figure.

Frank and I said hello. He asked what I wanted to accomplish. I don't remember what I said but I don't think it was remarkable. He plugged my Tele into a little Princeton Reverb behind us under a table. I played for him but think I probably fell flat on my face. He played a few things but nothing that would knock a kid out. He handed the guitar back to me, got up and left the room.

Mullen returned with a Mel Bay Level 1 guitar book and a large, Passatino spiral-bound staff book (blank staff pages). While I watched, he used a guitar fret hand stamp to carefuly stamp frets on a page of staff paper. When finished, he opened the Mel Bay book, bracketed a few exercises, then showed me what all the handwritten stuff was about. Then, Frank said, "I think you can do this. But you'll have to work hard. You'll have to practice every day...as long as it takes. But there will be a day when it all comes to you. Then, you won't need me anymore."

I thought that was interesting, coming from someone whose at least partial livelihood came from maintaining a student clientele. But, in some ways, he would be right.

Frank then played a few other things for me which did knock me out. And, after picking myself off the rug, I went home and practiced. And practiced. And practiced.

By the time next Tuesday at 4 rolled around, I was ready. I nailed the lesson and Frank was elated. For the first time in my young life, I had found truly positive feedback. I ate it up.

Every Tuesday afternoon for nearly four years, I would make the two-bus trek from Arlington to 1216 Connecticut Avenue, NW. The Passatino staff book gradually filled with Frank's teachings. Eventually, there would be three staff books containing decades of knowledge from someone whom I would find out had already forgotten more about music than I would ever know. I kept practicing and playing.

As the months went on, I improved. Although I suppose I already had the "aptitude;" Frank was opening doors for me by showing me key concepts and allowing me to soak it in my way. And, somewhere along the middle of 10th grade, it all started to come together.

As I improved, I played more, eventually playing six nights a week in high school. I won soloist awards, played solo guitar at Blues Alley on Friday and Saturday nights at 17 (for the AFM rate of $15 an hour), recorded, played in many area bands (this is before disco put everyone out of work), took summer classes at Berklee and Peabody and suddenly had to decide whether I would live my life as a gigging musician, go to music school or get a real job.

Then, Frank said he was leaving town. He, his wife and daughter would move to St. Petersburg, Florida, where he would run the new Charlie Byrd music store. I was heartbroken. And I think, in a way, Frank was, too. He grew up in DC; went to Maryland. His family and friends were here. But I also think he saw an opportunity and a retirement policy at the same time. And he hated winter. Frank was 41 when he, wife Donna and daughter Veva moved to Florida.

Just when I thought I didn't need Frank anymore is when I probably needed him most. And now; he was gone.

Byrd had started a chain of guitar-centered music stores catering to hard-core enthusiasts, including hard-to-find items and pro-level lessons. Apparently, it didn't last all that long, as Frank would soon join the faculty of St. Petersburg Junior College to start a guitar program. He would stay on the faculty for 32 years. Frank would mentor many up-and-coming guitarists, including Carl Amundson, who would later form The Modern Guitar Quintet; a group modeled exactly after Mullen's "Swinging Guitars" group of years past.

In the earlier days of the Internet; I search-engined Frank (I don't think Google was around then), found Amundson and managed to get a message to Frank after 25 years. Frank didn't do computers, but Carl wrote me back and told me how happy Frank was to hear from me...that I was one of "the players" from the "old days." According to Frank; if you were a "player," you really knew how to play. And that was Frank's thing: He turned out great guitar players. Frank's wife, Donna, emailed me back soon after Carl...said the same thing; mostly that Frank was so happy to hear from me.

Those things mean a lot as you get older.

I hadn't played anything for a long time when, in 1995, I heard a CD by an astounding jazz organist I would later learn was Joey DeFrancesco. I decided there and then I wanted to start playing again...this time on the Hammond B3, my other favorite instrument. And although I never returned to guitar, it was what I learned from Frank Mullen that made it so easy to transition to a completely different instrument. That's because Frank Mullen taught concept. Anyone can learn scales and other fundamentals. It's concept that makes or breaks a musician. You're not supposed to be able to teach concept; that comes from within. But Frank Mullen could...and did.

Frank Mullen died June 5th at 78. I just found out about it. Carl says Frank was recently diagnosed with colon cancer; it had already spread elsewhere. He lasted five weeks.

Frank Mullen, by anyone's measure, had a fascinating life. His resume as a performer was astonishing enough. But his legacy as an educator may not be measurable. As news of his death trickles through the Internet; it's a good bet Carl Amundson and others will become clearinghouses for a waterfall of memories from his former students and fellow musicians.

Everyone who sits down to play for a living owes their career to someone. I owe mine to a man who could have made a fortune as a performer, but became even wealthier in spirit by the lives and careers he touched as a teacher. There are a lot of fine guitar players in this world because of Frank Mullen. I am honored to have been part of that man's life.

sean hall

And You Wonder Why Parents Go Prematurely Gray?

Thursday's Washington Post had an interesting story on the Web site's front page. Over 100 Southern Maryland families with teen drivers are taking part in a study using a webcam-like device called DRIVE CAM. It allows parents to monitor their tender teen drivers in a way most kids don't like--at least right away. It emails the parents when their young one has done something stupid behind the wheel. It can send video to Mom and Dad's cell phone or home PC...notify them not just what happened, but where and at what speed...kinda like a flight data recorder. Nifty!

Okay. Watch the video. Then, read on.

I've been driving nearly 40 years. Over 2 million miles without a chargeable accident. Never a DUI. Lucky? Absolutely!!! But I also believe part of my "luck" comes from having quality driving instruction when I was a teenager.

Did you watch the video? Okay. Tell me this isn't a grand reason to make 18 the minimum driving age! I'll piss off a lot of teenagers by saying that--but a lot of states have raised their minimum driving ages past 16, anyway--so what's a few more months?

I'll tell you: More supervised time behind the wheel. Driving a car is a cumulative craft, like flying an airplane. It's a license to learn, not a license to drive. The FAA requires only 40 hours of stick time before getting a VFR ticket--but few people can master what's required for the checkride in 40 hours. Most students that get signed off to take the test have at least 60; many have 100 hours or more. Instructors must sign off on students before they can take the check ride. The same should hold true for new drivers. Maryland's learner's permits are now good for two years. Other states are at least 18 months.

Young drivers need to learn quality skills quickly; sometimes far too fast for many to get the grip. I'm all for comprehensive driving courses that (at least attempt to) teach basics of situational awareness and reaction, evasive manuevers and emergency procedures. More emphasis needs to be placed on the hazards of drunk driving, aggressive driving and the dangers of having five of your friends with you in your dad's E320 listening to NWA while doing 45 in a 25.

Problem is--these courses cost money. Sure, the school systems offer Driver's Ed, but these days, it's substantially pared-down compared to decades past. Budget cuts. Parents could foot the bill--but driving school is expensive. And the kind of driving school I recommend is only within the reach of a small number of well-off parents. My doctor made his 16 year old son take an evasive driving course before allowing him to drive unsupervised. And his son thanked him for it. Whether it sticks long-term remains to be seen, but if Jonah remembers even a hint of what he learned in those classes--it someday might save his life--and those in the car with him.

We all do stupid things behind the wheel. ANYONE can get in an accident at any given time or place. And, as teenagers, we did some really stupid things. But it's a different world now. Cars aren't battleships anymore. Although much more advanced, technically--they're also much more fragile. There are also about 200 million more cars and trucks on the road these days. With that--probably just as many crazy drivers thinking about anything but driving. And while an airbag might save your life--there's a good chance it would have never had to be deployed if the driver was simply paying attention.

Holy Crap

This will be an odd weekend. Saturday will be a day and night of enjoyment with my wife. Sunday; we'll probably have a nice lunch.

At 3pm Sunday; it'll all be gone. Gone!

I'm having a colonoscopy Monday. In the old days, colonoscopies were done in the doctor's office, with little or any anesthesia. Today, they resemble major surgery. You're sedated, usually with Versed or something similar...and although you're usually able to watch while the G-I doctor probes--you're too knocked out to care.

My pre-op prep instructions resemble a ransom note. Take two Dulcolax at exactly 3pm with an eight ounce glass of water. Mix one 255 gram bottle of Miralax with a 64 oz bottle of Gatorade; your choice of flavor. Drink one 8 oz glass of Gatorade/Miralax once an hour or something like that until bedtime, then take two more Dulcolax, etc. Oh, and by the way--you're allowed clear liquids only from 3pm through 6:30 the next morning. NO nothing after 6:30 am thru the end of the procedure. This is so the gastroenterologist doesn't get a surprise. I'm sure it's happened, too!

By that time, though, considering the heavy artillery going through my system--it won't matter. I will have read a slew of magazines, maybe even brought the laptop in the bathroom for a while. I'll work in the hours before the procedure--so that'll be interesting going without my usual 3-4 large cups of coffee. Maybe we can bring the home studio in the john, too!

But the unpleasantness of the procedure is nothing compared to its benefits...especially if you've lost a friend or loved one to colon cancer. Think Katie Couric's husband, Jay Monahan. More locally; we think about our pal, Walt Starling, who died needlessly in 2005 at 52. The painful irony is Walter had a colonoscopy scheduled for a particular day. The story is Walt got called into work the night before--and, because he was a "per diem" at the time--took it because he needed the money. He cancelled his colonoscopy. Many months later, Walt complained of abdominal pain. A CT scan showed a huge mass in his colon. Further tests showed it had spread to his liver and lungs. Stage four. Surgeons removed the mass, resectioned his colon and eventually sent him home. Walt lasted about ten more months. Had he gone ahead with the procedure when scheduled, there was a good chance doctors could have saved his life.

1,800 people attended Walt's funeral. He had so many friends because he was a great friend to so many. Few people touch others as he did.

In some way or another; we are all statistics. But one column I don't want to be in--is people who left way too soon because they didn't know they had colon cancer.

Besides; I can eat lunch after the procedure...

Update On A Few Things--

Haven't had much to blog about lately, so I thought I'd update you on the last few weeks:

--I hear the Goldman Family Party is still going strong, a week after OJ was convicted. Much as I feel for Fred and Kim; OJ's conviction just gave them five more years on the talk shows without repeating themselves...

--My gig in Chestertown went great (see my "I gotta gig" blog)! We sounded great! In fact; we were so good, A) The Fabulous Hubcaps, the headliner band, asked us how long we'd been together, to which I said, "not counting today?" B) the Mayor of Rock Hall (about 15 miles from Chestertown), asked if we'd be interested in doing a couple of gigs in the near future! This is a big deal for a bunch of 50-something guys who gaze at guitarcenter.com and pine for a Marshall 100 W lead amp with 2 cabinets...

--Our money situation is tanking. If you have money in TSP or something similar; you have my deepest sympathy. But my guess is most of this is election-year ploys. Gas prices will fall hard; the markets will rise and Bush will find Osama Bin Laden the first weekend in November. He'll be working at a 7-Eleven in Ypsilanti, Michigan. The same one Elvis worked at. Or did Elvis work in Chaska, Minnesota?

--I think it's hilarious AIG's top executives spent $440K on a "weekend retreat," complete with spa services (one can only imagine)...less than a week after the government handed them 2/3 of their $85 billion dollar payment. And now, the government's talking about giving them more! I heard CBS commentator Dave Ross today--talking about the bailout and how teachers are miffed because the trickle-down isn't going to schools and their salaries. Ross said teachers and school systems should get busy and reorganize themselves--as banks! I love Dave Ross.

--A few blogs ago; I wrote about my stepson, Nick, buying a Wii with his own money; his first major expenditure. Two days ago; our two Maltese(s) decided to eat the sensor bar. And yes, they do make aftermarket sensor bars for Wiis. Seems Frosty and Sammy aren't the first to use the sensor bar for a chew toy--nor will they be the last, it seems...

Kids And Birthday Parties

One aspect of getting married at 51 was inheriting a kid. Nicholas turned 11 last week; his birthday party was this past Saturday.

Kids birthday parties in the 'burbs resemble getting Ringling Brothers on the road. Plans for these things start months in advance, much like a wedding. There's the invitation list. The venue. The theme. Getting invited means you're "in the loop." Not getting invited means you must find something else to do with your day. Many kids seriously in the loop sometimes have several parties to go to in a day, much like Hollywood stars.

Then, there's the food and activities. Many parents max out credit cards and take out second mortgages to pay for their child's soiree. This year; we decided to try and keep it on the cheap, but good at the same time. Nick wanted taquitos, tortilla chips and pizza rolls. Off to Sam's Club for institutional-size boxes of taquitos and pizza rolls, plus giant bags of tortilla chips you'll never finish without having a second party. We also got him a giant birthday chocolate chip cookie, because that's what he wanted.

It wasn't enough.

Eleven kids and their parents showed up yesterday. Fortunately; most of the parents left and came back; elated to have some together time. A couple of parents stayed and drank adult beverages. First item on the kids' agenda--nibble on taquitos and tortilla chips--then, play outside.

About 45 minutes later, the little darlings return, hot and sweaty. And hungry. They proceeded to devour the party table of taquitos, pizza rolls and Velveeta dip much the same way as pirhana go after a cow that wanders aimlessly into the Amazon.

It became evident in short order we weren't going to have enough to eat. The taquitos were history and the pizza rolls weren't far behind.

Across the street to Giant for more pizza rolls. Two giant bags later; I return, to find we're now into the birthday present and birthday cookie portion of the show. Apparently, if you tell kids something sweet is on the way; they'll stop eating.

Now; we have two whole bags of pizza rolls plus another half-bag from the feeding frenzy. We also have two huge bags of tortilla chips, another institutional-size brick of Velveeta, plus the melted Velveeta we didn't get to.

Above and beyond all this--the ice maker quit working. So much for the Dreamsicles...