The Conjurer

May 2, 2009

I had been working with an accordion player over the past 3 weeks. Come to find out he lived for a while in California. We ended up knowing some of the same musicians and even some of the same accordion players. We talked of their styles, how long we had known them, etc. We talked a little about how we both started playing accordion, how his first accordion teacher so inspired him with his arrangements and jazz possibilities. I told him how I had the opposite feeling towards mine. I hated the accordion and everything Palmer-Hughes/Myron Floren stood for. I couldn't wait to become old enough to earn my independence and shed the straps of this wheezing iron lung.

The next week I again met with him. Someone had left a message to return their call and the call was placed from Binghamton, New York. I overheard this and told him that is where I was from (actually I'm from Vestal, a township next door). He told me that he was from Endicott, the village across the river from Vestal, fierce high school football rivals. We talked of all the great pizza places back there, Pat Mitchell's ice cream parlor, speedies, etc. Come to find out we had the same accordion teacher, Alex Apolovich.

I told my folks about this. Come to find out my parents went to his father's funeral and to both his brother's and sister's wedding. Also they told me that his mother is the god daughter of my cousin, Dina, my mother's sister's oldest daughter. Funny how you go so far out of your way only to find yourself back at your beginnings.