The Road to Mr. Music
Mom and Dad
I guess the journey to a music career started with the Red Piano. It wasn’t always red. It was originally a solid upright piano that my mother found, and rather than refinish it, she painted it a bright orange-red. Little Jimmer loved this new addition to the dining room and at every chance he moved his little fingers on the notes and plunked out songs with one finger. His basic interest led to piano lessons from Mrs. Mulligan, who charged fifty cents for a half-hour lesson. These lessons continued for ten years, during which time Jimmer learned his scales and how to read music. But his real love was baseball, which fueled his daily dreams. But, Momma ‘Charlie’ admonished him, “Practice your piano; someday you’ll thank me.” “You were right Mom, Thanks”.
My dear Mother also imparted another great lesson in me. She would go about doing housework happily singing a little ditty. We snot-nosed kids would yell, “Mom, you can’t sing, be quiet”. Her response was a life lesson of the highest order. She smiled as she said, “I’ve never let not being able to sing well, stop me from singing”. I, myself, have suffered from a limited singing voice, but that admonition kept me going. Thanks again, Mom.
My Dad, the renowned English professor, Dr. Edward P.J. Corbett, was consumed with his work, and spent most of his time pecking on his Royal typewriter. But every once in a while, he would break out his chromatic harmonica, and play songs he had learned by heart in the Marine Corps. He would sing and play his favorite tunes to the delight of his growing brood of children, who were fascinated by his hidden talent. He also imparted a little ditty on the keyboard called ‘the knuckle song’ that further inspired my belief in the fun of music. In later days, he would come down from his office to revel in the hootenannies of my pickin’ and grinnin’ friends. He loved the music.
Singing in Church
St. Cecilia’s is a beautiful Cathedral in Omaha, NE. I went to school at St. Cecilia’s Grade School. St. Cecilia is the patron saint of music, and she must have been a guide in my journey. As luck would have it, we were required to learn to sing Gregorian Chant. This music was developed in 900 AD, to accompany the Latin Mass. Imagine being in the Choir loft, 50 feet above the congregation with a massive pipe organ vibrating your body, heart and soul, and your vocal chords forming the melodies that were brought into existence by monks 1000 years prior. This was more than a religious experience. This was spiritual enlightenment through music.
The Record Player
As a little kid, I had a record player in a box, which was a turntable, a tone arm and a speaker all built in. I recall halcyon days spinning the discs and singing along at the top of my lungs to songs like ‘This Little Light of Mine’. The first record I bought with my saved allowance was Sing Along with Mitch, which was also a ‘follow the bouncing ball’ TV show, and I soaked up the classic songs of my parents’ era. Next came the folk revival, and The Kingston Trio sucked up my allowances. I wore a deep groove in those albums, and in turn, those songs wore a deep groove in my brain. I found out from those aural experiences, that I have a gift for remembering lyrics and their melodies. That love of records followed me into my teenage years. In the 60s the albums of The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, and an endless stream British and American bands brought about a revolution of Peace, Love along with incredible songs. I saw the Stones in 1966 in Omaha during their second tour of the USA, and I wanted to be Mick Jagger. That was until I discovered Bob Dylan, and then I wanted to be Bob Dylan. With my gift of remembering lyrics, I absorbed all the songs on his early albums and still today can sing, by heart, those strange word salads that make up his songs.
Bob Dylan
I became a Devotee of Bob Dylan. I knew every song on every album from Freewheelin’ to Nashville Skyline. I began entertaining thoughts about becoming a singer/songwriter. I figured, that if Dylan could make it with his nasally voice and oddball lyrics, I might have a chance to make a life singing for people. By a freak chance I was invited to go to Woodstock by my girlfriend’s neighbor. I had no idea what Woodstock was, but I knew that Bob Dylan lived in Woodstock, so I tagged along. I ended up on the hillside watching Richie Havens open the show. That was followed by sleeping in a plowed furrow and getting nearly washed away in that night’s deluge. But the next morning, lots of wet Hippies were cheering on the music of Santana, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Wavy Gravy admonishing the crowd not to take the brown acid. At the time I wasn’t even smoking pot, so I was probably one of the few to have a sober musical experience at Woodstock. I’ve made up for that neglect since.
California Dreaming
Serendipity brought me to the beach in San Francisco on New Year’s Day 1972. Arriving in “Big Red’, my tricked out Econoline van. As luck would have it, I became the roadie and the opening act for the rock band, ‘90 Weight’. We were the first band to play Last Day Saloon on Clement Street. Diamond Jim and the Gems was the opening set in that storied venue. That band kicked around on the circuit and even played at Uncle Sam’s in a place called Sebastopol. Years later I moved with my wife, Jan, to a house four blocks from that joint, where we raised three beautiful daughters; Sophia, Elizabeth and Karina, which is where I’ll pick up the rest of the story.
All three of my girls went to Park Side School, the school their mother went to as a child. Diamond Jim & The Gems were playing at Joe Froggers, John Barleycorn’s and the The Inn of the Beginning in Cotati. On a good night we took home $50 bucks each, but we were ‘living the dream’. On a whim I volunteered to do music for Elizabeth’s first grade class at Park Side School. Soon I was hired by Superintendent, Mike Carey, to do music for the whole school. This led to requests from other school districts and soon I was contracting with five different districts to provide classroom music to their Kinder-3rd grade kids. And so, Mr. Music was born. Every day I would roll my cart into a classroom with 60 kids squealing with delight as I entered. I brought the joy of music with my guitar, a keyboard and my puppet, Octave the Singing Dog. Music is a joy maker and that age group readily sang and danced through the half hour lesson. I found out that playing for kids beats playing for drunks, and I soon became the hardest working musician in the county. Five days a week I was playing 3 hours a day, for an audience of 250+ kids, spreading joy and making more than $50 bucks a day. Now I was really living the dream. After all, what other occupation could I have where 60 people cheer with delight when I walk into work. Now that was the real dream come true.
Singing together
Music is a joy maker and singing together brings joy and unity to those that participate in that union. Mr. Music parlayed that joy to form the Love Choir, which he fondly refers to as Kids with Wrinkles. That Choir has been singing every week since 1997. I have also been blessed with the opportunity to create Peacetown in 2013 which is the free annual music festival at Ives Park for the local folks to enjoy the best of our vibrant music scene.
Thanks, Mom for all the good advice.
Jim Corbett is a musician, teacher, author, band leader, promoter, choir director, record producer and proud father and grandfather. He lives in Sebastopol California, where he is recognized as a community leader and founder of Peacetown, the Love Choir and the Mr. Music Foundation.
Mr. Music with Octave, The Singing Dog
Mr. Music at ‘work’ with Octave The Singing Dog
These are my People
Diamond Jim, Bandleader
St Cecilia’s Cathedral Omaha, NE
The Corbett Clan with the future Mr. Music (right)
al
Diamond Jim and the Gems Living thr Dream
Mr. Music at Monte Rio School
