Bogie, the Boys, and a "Rose Among the Thorns"

Leave Taking

As with any adventure, one must be prepared to make choices and travel light if one expects to successfully arrive at some far off and exotic destination.

— A sentiment reminiscent of one of my favorite movies, "The Accidental Tourist." In the film, an emotionally stunted travel guide writer unwittingly frames his perspective on travel in thinly described metaphors that really reflect the ways in which he attempts to protect himself from the agony and, simultaneously, the ecstasy of real life. I've been thinking of how he wrote about traveling light. Suggesting that the wise traveler not get too encumbered in personal relationships, which might add "extra baggage" to the journey.

Personal relationships are the most difficult to reconcile in the leave taking process, especially when they are part and parcel of your history. I've struggled with a number of important relationships in the Cincinnati move -- my boys, Mom and family, dear friends, colleagues and longtime neighbors. This week was one of the toughest relationship transitions for me--leaving All That Jazz.

Last Gig

A week ago last Sunday was my last gig with the 18-piece big band and the following Wednesday--my last rehearsal. On both occasions, I was unable to say what I felt. Tears and emotions got in the way. I'm hoping that here, I will be able to convey to the dear, dear friends in my musical family how much they mean to me and how much I will miss them.

The standard patter I employ to tell our audiences how long I've been with the band usually goes like this. "I've been singing with All That Jazz for 21 years. You do the math. I was a 5 year old child protégée." The real story is that Joan Speerschneider, who played trombone with the band 21 years ago, asked me if I was interested in singing with a big band since her group had recently decided that adding a singer was a good thing (incidentally, not all musicians see a vocalist as an asset). That was 1988, the band had been around 1 or 2 years, and my son Philip was 18 months old. I went to a rehearsal in the basement of Bruce Johnson's house (founder and leader of what he then called "The Unknown Dance Band" -- a moniker I always detested)--and was invited to stay. From the very beginning, the group consisting mostly of men (except for Carolyn Shelp and Joan Speerschneider) was very friendly, complimentary, and made me feel valued. Bruce even printed my gig song lists on fancy papers and played up the diva bit a little hoping that I would front the band--a job he didn't like to do.

What I loved about the group then and still do today is that everybody works hard, doesn’t take themselves too seriously, and really wants to make great music. It was an atmosphere conducive to a performance banter that is unique for the band and audience experience. Shy flower that I am, I accepted the job of fronting the band--but as is my nature, dragged the band into the work. The band became the "straight man" for many of my bits and, if truth be told, vice versa. Always good-natured, they were ready to engage in any silliness I asked of them. I think this has become a signature style of our group -- one that makes us approachable and memorable.

The band is a great mix of people from different walks of life. Some of us have worked in music professionally. Others are bakers, teachers, business people, computer professionals and we have better than normal distribution of teachers and doctors (plus a nurse and massage therapist thrown in for good measure). Our high quota of doctors has provided another standard bit at gigs — telling audiences that we are a good band in normal situations and a great band in a crisis. (Just yell if anyone stops breathing. The doctors will finish the verse and be right out.) Recently, Paul has had no end of fun since I finished my PhD and became Dr. Donna. So much for emergency band medical procedures, or maybe I’ll just be the concurring doctor.

No matter what we did by day, when we came together for rehearsal--all was left outside the band room doors at Verona High School, which eventually became our practice home.

Under the direction of Bruce Johnson, we played some festivals, made two great recordings of the band, and had some interesting gigs -- like a swanky private club in Chicago. We rented a bus to get there and the band treated us to a great seafood joint. Paul Heinecke took over directing after Bruce moved to Las Vegas--is that five or six years ago already?! We played lots of weddings--even our own Rick Lemon's and Carolyn and Don Shelp's. I always know how long Rick's been married because I was quite pregnant with my second son, Thomas, at the time he and Tina married. During their reception, the baby responded to all our Ella Fitzgerald and Duke Ellington numbers with regular, rhythmic--and hard kicks. Three weeks before he was born, I had to leave a benefit gig in Oregon early because I thought I was going into labor. We played Carolyn's son's wedding and just recently the 50th birthday of our great alto man, "King" Dave Rice.

I will miss everyone -- all for special reasons. I'm forever grateful to Joan for putting my name in the ring. She and I have kept in touch, though she went on to play for Ladies Must Swing.

"Rose Among the Thorns" and Other "Sexy" Saxes

With Joan gone, Carolyn Shelp and I have been the only regular "girls" in the band for years. That gave rise to one of the band's favorites--identifying Carolyn as "the rose among the thorns" when introducing the sax section. Since Dave Rice and I were the McFarland/Stoughton contingent, we periodically carpooled to out-of-town gigs. I'll miss our great conversations about music and sharing our favorite artists, stories about families, life in general, and thoughts about the UW-Platteville music faculty--our undergrad alma mater. Then there is the "lovely dr. Bruce Wencel" who has been my seatmate for years. I will miss his jokes, German version of Beer Barrel Polka and great "rest of the stories" about the big band tunes we played. Sam Robinson, who replaced Tom Svoboda (whose laugh I loved), is a perfect fit for the band--great player, great guy and has a really nice wife who will be filling in for me the first gig I'm in Ohio. Verne Pieper was our bari man for years. What a sweet guy and a quick smile. He passed away some time ago and was replaced by our wonderful band historian, Fred Jurgens. Another introduction favorite was letting the audience know that Fred used researching the history of our repertoire as an excuse for obsessive net surfing. In truth, he made a wonderful reference guide for me with dates, writers, performance, and recording information on our most played tunes. For that reason, I know things like Connie Francis only recorded her signature tune "Who's Sorry Now" because her Dad made her do it. And, Frank Sinatra's most recorded tune was "I've Got You Under My Skin." Fred is also an ingenious guy who created and built the case housing our stand lights.

Super Slides

With the exception of Bob Weber, the trombone section has turned over a few more times since I started with the band. Bob is a fabulous baker and has kept us fed at rehearsals with all manner of rolls and cookies. I met him first doing a restaurant review on his Susie the Duck cookies during my tenure as the Secret Snacker on WMTV. He is a quiet giant -- quick with a laugh and always ready to lend a hand. Personally, I'm modeling my departure after Russ Borchardt who played trombone during the Johnson administration and returned two(?) years ago. Another good road companion, Russ has been recently helping me learn the ropes of the State auto auction during my search for my son, Thomas' car. Ken Erfourth, another talented player, adds a little salt aka trouble to the performance repartee. At least once a show, Ken throws in the comment that leaves me speechless. He's a smart guy who just finished "cleaning" my Dell laptop. Sharing a ride to an Oconomowoc gig this summer, he taught me how to grow garlic. On the quiet end of the section are Bill Payne and Dave Verban. The trombone section has all shown up at my Caroling Party. In recent years, Bill's wife Beverly and his daughter have been stalwart regulars. Year before last, Dave and Julie Verban (Julie is another rose who subs in saxes) and their kids were enthusiastic carolers during a particularly snowy party. It wasn't until my final rehearsal last week that I got to hear those beautiful mellow tones of Dave playing by himself.

Is There a Doctor in the Trumpets?

Then there are those trumpet guys. I will very much miss watching Dr. Rick Lemon hawk our cd's, do his Trini Lopez imitation during LaBamba, and regale the crowd with the unknown story behind Jobim's "Girl from Ipanema" -- "The Girl from East of Neenah." Danny Southard and I go back to the Gardenia Big Band in Rockford. I made him do his Wizard of Oz munchkin imitation at our last gig. I vote that he should be allowed to do the munchkin rendition of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" at all gigs I miss. Then there are the other two Drs.--Weatherhogg and Shelp. Curt Weatherhogg is a renaissance man and good-naturedly agreed to "star" in my grad school video entitled "What is Creativity?" We share an interest in calligraphy. He is a wonderful mixture of talented musician, calligrapher, and doctor. Dr. Don Shelp has been with the band longer than I have, a charter member I think. Another one who is quick with a laugh and smart enough to marry the lovely Carolyn. Some of the best laughs I've had over the years came from listening to Marv Nonn, another multi-talented guy with a great sense of humor. Marv, you and Vicki need to stop off in Cincinnati on your way to China. Oh, and our fearless leader, Paul Heinecke, is a trumpet guy too -- but more about him later.

The Ace of Bass, Dr. Beat, and Regal Rhythm

Last but not least is the rhythm section, my people. Laird Marshall, piano, is new to the band this year--but fits right in. Like the others he is funny and a good sport about his band baptism of fire. Like the others, he's an old softy at the core. At our last gig, he handed me a little handwritten slip of paper, the contact information for his son and daughter-in-law who are residents of my new territory. The Ace of Bass, Mr. Al Chase, and I go back a long ways. Don't remember where he got my name but Al hired me to sing a two-week gig with his combo not long after I got married. He didn't usually work with singers and patiently met with me to go over charts and keys. I learned a lot during those two weeks at the Concourse. Over the years, I really enjoyed getting to know Al's wife, Janet--and miss her. What can I say about Dr. Beat? Dave Heilman is a great percussionist, funny guy, and still a dedicated teacher. (Saw him just last night at the wedding of Philip's best friend and one of his former students.) As my boy's band teacher in McFarland, he was a rock during my divorce--always cared about my boys and kept an eye on them at school challenging them, making music fun, and helping out where he could. One of the best things that ever happened to my sons in jr. high and high school was band. I will miss Dave's fabulous percussionists and world-class arrangements at the annual High School Pop's Concert.

Oh Captain, My Captain

Finally, I will miss our fearless leader and his wife. Paul and Ruth Heinecke are just good people--fun, talented, hardworking, optimistic--good people. Paul has been the perfect "second act" director to Bruce's start up years. Paul's good nature, sense of humor, and damned great selling has made us a happy band that is popular with lots of work. (I particularly appreciated the fact that Paul never again made me sing Englebert Humperdinck tunes.) He has kept the band growing musically and managed to keep it fun while challenging us.

No Swan Song for the Girl from East of Madison

Though Paul was inundated with a business SNAFU and up to his eyeballs in crisis management last weekend, he found time to construct the following send off for me at the last concert:

“According to Wikipedia…The phrase 'swan song' is a reference to an ancient belief that the Mute Swan (Cygnas olor) is completely mute during its lifetime until the moment just before it dies or moves to Cincinnati, when it sings one beautiful song.

We will opt for this legend…Aesop’s fable of 'The Swan Mistaken for a Goose'alludes to it: 'The swan, who had been caught by mistake instead of the goose, began to sing as a prelude to her own demise. Her voice was recognized and the song saved her life, so she could return to Madison.'

Donna, blessing on your travel, and may you return to us soon!”

So, to the band--what I could not say at rehearsal (and you know it's a big deal when I can't think of anything to say) is that I love you all and will miss you all and cannot say goodbye. Thank you for making me feel important and treasured--for giving me a place of joy and solace in tough times-- for making me laugh often and hard--for being "Unforgettable." Chez Bogie at 4211 Muchmore Road in Cincinnati awaits your reservations. Remember, I'm first on the call list--and, yes, I'll be at the Opera House gig in January.