|Palm Springs, 1964|
After perusing Facebook this morning, I found out that today is National Siblings Day. Sheesh! There's a holiday for EVERYTHING now. Used to be we'd just celebrate each other on our birthdays. Now, my brother and I have a particular day where we can reminisce about how he used to call me "Shrimp," "Pokey" and "Pipsqueak."
|At Grandma & Grandpa Bloom's house, across the street from Hollywood H.S.|
|Halloween, 1957. Beverly Hills|
|Ken's Bar Mitzvah Reception, 1958. Sherman Oaks|
|San Francisco, 1959|
I must say, I'm eternally grateful to my brother, Ken for teaching me how to play the ukulele, guitar and banjo and for furthering my love of American Roots music. We are seven years apart, so I cannot remember too many favors I did for Kenny. He was out of the house by the time I was 11 or 12. I do remember Mom saying that he couldn't use the family car unless he took his little sister along, thus ensuring that he wouldn't get into any REAL trouble. Little did Mom know that I was sitting in smokey back rooms at The Ash Grove (L.A.'s premiere folk music club) listening to the less than wholesome sounds of Reverend Gary Davis, Ramblin' Jack Elliot and Bill Monroe rehearse before performances!
Me, I'm still playing the same three chords on the ukulele!
|Ken, Dad, Ellen. 1955. San Diego Zoo|
|Ellen, Mom, Ken. 1955. Ferry to Coronado Island.|
|Ken, Ellen. 2004. Los Angeles|
Happy Siblings Day, Kenny!
Labels: family, Los Angeles, Music, Ukulele