Music, Mandolin, Medicine, and Musing

I grew up playing the guitar and became a serious performer in high school, winning the school-wide talent show and traveling with the city-wide program that went to each high school (sponsored by the major newspaper in the region, the Press Telegram).  Eventually, I became a songwriter, converting full-time to contemporary Christian music during my college years in the seventies.  Over the many years I showed an affinity for the blues, doing Elvis impressions and playing Buddy Holly songs at church parties and school events.

After being diagnosed in 2006, I wrote an album and recorded the songs for "I Will Go On".  That album was followed up by another retrospective of my music life, "Curtain Call", produced by my son and his best friend.  I joined the church band led by a friend and provided instrumental and vocal support.

In addition, Pastor Brad frequently requested that I sing a solo which tied in to his sermon topic.  I sang many songs over a 12-year period until he retired.  I miss singing those songs for him as I finger-picked on one of my acoustic guitars. 

Finally, I realized my calling to play the blues.  I discovered the joy of ripping the electric neck on a six string plugged into a tube amp.  I loved that!  I began to grow in my skill and became a competent blues man, with a lot to learn for years to come. More than anything, it provided an outlet for the angst and feelings of despair that come from realizing you have a degenerative brain disease.  I let it all out singing songs like, "Stormy Monday" or "The Sky is Crying" and walk away from my ax feeling a joy I can't explain.

I pulled our old Gibson A style mandolin out of the case a few years ago.  I began to work on a few chords and our worship leader said bring it and play on a few songs at church.  It worked, though I was rudimentary.  I was hooked!  I started to really work on the mandolin, learning completely different chord shapes, positions and scales.  The mandolin is a magical instrument!  It has a sweet high sound with double courses of strings tuned exactly to the pitch of a violin, but played with a pick rather than bow.  I know:  I played violin as a boy for two years, making second chair in the orchestra.

Now, I am still an entertainer.  Twice each month we visit Villa Health Care Center nursing home, where  my friend and I play and sing for the patients, visitors and staff.  Now, I have a whole new sound and an instrument to add to my joy of sharing music and experiencing it at home as well.  The mandolin has taken hold.  The patterns and constant learning experience has to be lengthening the time that my brain is effective in the cerebral cortex.

There is an often repeated story about a Catholic Sister who had Alzheimer's disease for years and it had not shown up.  She was playing the piano and writing music diligently.  When she died they studied her brain.  Sure enough, the tau (protein) tangles were rampant in her brain tissue, so why had no one noticed she had full blown dementia?  Apparently, her musicianship and regular practice of playing of the piano and writing music had done wonders in preserving her brain function, creating pathways to compensate for the onslaught of her terrible disease.

My obsession with the mandolin will be with me the rest of my life, along with my constant love for my acoustic guitars, my love of entertaining people, and my ax plugged into my tube amp playing the blues.  -- Dan