Music to eat to

Four Parables ~ Four Souvenirs ~ Cafe Music; Paul Schoenfield, composer; James Ahnes, violin; Edward Arron, cello; Andrew Russo, piano

It’s rare for a Marine to be standing where he or she stands without proper paperwork authorizing him or her to be standing where he or she stands. That’s why I found it a little unnerving for the Chief Warrant Officer to send me over to the White House one snowy December morning without a security list. A Marine, you may surmise, without a security list is a lost Marine, indeed.

This particular White House job had come to the attention of the Marine Band Operations office very early in the morning and they called me at zero-five-thirty. At ten-hundred hours, my driver chauffeured me over to the White House, and all the while there I couldn’t stop thinking, How am I going to talk my way into the White House? “What are you doing here without a security list, Marine?” The President needs me. “Nonsense! He’s been here for eight years and never needed you before!” But his piano isn’t getting played. “That’s no work for a Marine! Go back to the barracks and clean your gun, Jarhead!”

So, what really happened is this: As I was just about to show the security guard my military ID, he looked at me and asked, “You Apland?” Yes, sir. “Go on in.” Now, that’s the way it’s supposed to work.

I really didn’t know what function I was playing for. Everything had happened so fast. I think I heard something about lunch. When I got to the head usher’s office, he asked, “What are you doing here?” Um, lunch? “Ohhhhhhh. Say. Well, you’re going to have something to talk about when you go home tonight.” Oh? “Wait here for about thirty minutes and I’ll take you upstairs.”

After about a half hour, the head usher escorted me up to the private residence … in the private elevator … and shepherded me over to the grand piano. Ten minutes later, President Clinton and President-Elect Bush galumphed through the atrium, bid me hello and sat down at a table in the next room to have Presidential lunch. It seems that I was there to protect my Commander in Chief and his successor from bad lunch music. And, may I say, I was victorious.

I have been all over the world and have seen it as the penultimate symbol of high class and status: live music while dining. A perk historically reserved only for kings and queens, high-appointed officials and parents of music students who practice at mealtime, the joy of munching, crunching and chomping to the lovely strains of “The Beautiful Blue Danube”, “Moonlight Serenade”, “Embraceable You”, “Feelings”, “Memory” from Cats, “Let’s Give Them Something To Talk About” and “Take This Job And Shove It” has descended from its lofty peaks and spilled over into much more common and mainstream venues like sidewalk cafes, country clubs, tea rooms and McDonald’s.

Murray’s Restaurant and Cocktail Lounge has been a part of the Minneapolis dining scene since 1946 and remains one of the few independently owned eating establishments of its kind in the Twin Cities. They have had, through the years, and still have, live music for dining. I’ve never visited this place, but they have piano and strings. Quaint, huh?

Composer Paul Schoenfield writes about his piece called “Café Music”:

"The idea to compose Café Music first came to me in 1985 after sitting in one night for the pianist at Murray’s Restaurant in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Murray’s employs a house trio which plays entertaining dinner music in a wide variety of styles. My intention was to write a kind of high-class dinner music – music which could be played at a restaurant, but might also (just barely) find its way into a concert hall. The work draws on many of the types of music played by the trio at Murray’s … 20^th century American, Viennese, light classical, gypsy, and Broadway styles are all represented.”

I love this piece. And I’m going to play it some day.

By the way, President Clinton spilled something on his tie and had to tap into his necktie stash before heading back down to the office. President-Elect Bush remained tidy-tied during the whole experience. I got bread crumbs on my red coat during my lunch, which, I must tell you, occurred without any music ... and without any security list.

Credits: To Glenn Miller and His Orchestra, for “Moonlight Serenade”, “In The Mood” and “String Of Pearls”. Good stuff, fellas!

This is the thirty-sixth of my final forty-five CD’s.