It’s June 23, 1962.
Ray Charles’ “I Can’t Stop Loving You” and David Rose’s “The Stripper” are fighting for the most spins on New York’s bossest radio station, WABC-AM. The fledgling New York Mets erupt for 13 runs — the most they will score in any game their first year — to beat Houston at the Polo Grounds. English jazz instrumentalist Tubby Hayes is in New York too, cutting an album with an all-star band that includes James Moody and a sax player still known simply as Roland Kirk.
And in the Connecticut suburbs of The City, the usually sedate Blumenau family is celebrating summer by pitching a wang dang doodle:
June 23, 1962: When the house is rockin', don't bother knockin'.
Since the calendar entries continue after June 23, 1962, I gather that the roof stayed on the house and the walls stayed in one piece. Sounds like it was a near thing, though.
But seriously … a couple of observations (or semi-educated guesses) about this calendar entry:
* Clambakes are not a Blumenau family tradition as far as I know. (Of course, it’s never too late to start.) Still, for the sake of argument, I’ll assume my grandfolks actually did cook and serve a bunch of bivalves that day. It was summer; they lived in New England; and there were other big doings that day. Sure, why not?
* My great-grandmother, who will get an entry all to herself one of these days, was a piano teacher for many years. I’m guessing that the “piano blast” was someone’s droll description of a piano recital — one of those interminable events where legions of students take turns traipsing up to the piano and abusing “Fur Elise.”
* “Clam,” incidentally, is long-standing musicians’ slang for a wrong note. (An interesting discussion of the term’s origin can be found here.) I doubt my family had that connection in mind when they scheduled a clambake on the same day as a student piano recital. But when you put the two things together, it’s a wonderfully subtle in-joke.
* I’m not convinced the party description is in my grandfather’s handwriting — it doesn’t lean forward the same way. Compare it to some of the other calendar entries we’ve seen so far, and tell me if you don’t agree.
It’s definitely not my dad’s writing either (the words “Rod-Job-Stu” are in his hand), nor that of my grandma or great-grandma.
So my guess is that my Aunt Elaine contributed this calendar entry, perhaps elaborating ever so slightly on the size and scope of the par-tay. I could be wrong: The musical notes suggest a certain puckishness I associate with my grandfather.
* I’m guessing that the beer — if beer was indeed served — would have been one of the great New York-area brands of the day, like Ballantine or Rheingold. I would have enjoyed the chance to taste either one while they were still made to their classic recipes.
At any rate:
While Memorial Day weekend is a time for reflection, it’s also a time to get together and relax with family and friends.
Here’s hoping all my readers are enjoying the weekend that traditionally serves as the gateway to summer.
And here’s hoping your summer is long, warm, and full of clambakes and piano blasts.
Hope Street 
Kurt et al:
The “Clam Bake” referred to is really just the piano recital, which was always followed by a little party in the yard featuring refreshments (likely NOT bi-valves) including beer (likely Ballantine or Schaefer or Reingold). I don’t recall anyone in the Blumenau family ever cooking clams; they ate them at TIME, Inc. picnics, but that was about it. Sorry to disappoint you.
“Clam Bake” IS your grandfather’s writing, though. He must have been in a hurry or something, but that’s definitely his penmanship.
Very nice piece for Memorial Day, BTW! You have to go to the other side of the family to find patriots… I think I kept my father out of WWII, and your brother Eric kept me out of Vietnam; timing is everything. And oh yes, we are quite the lovers, aren’t we?
Father Rod
I always assumed Drawing Boy missed World War II because he was the sole means of support for his mother.
(Isn’t that traditionally an exemption from military service?)
I am now dead set on becoming the first Blumenau to have a clambake. In fact, I might just go upstairs and put it on the calendar …
I shall beat you to it. I imagine I can find clams in San Francisco somewhere and I live a stone’s throw from the beach. Don’t you have to bury the fire in the sand or is that a crab thing?
Everybody, Clam bake!
Eric
Yeah, that’s not my writing, but thanks for thinking of me.
I’m quite sure its Drawing Boy’s writing, perhaps influenced by the notes around it. I am wondering if the answer to the meaning of the clam bake is in the ” O.” before it. Or, maybe that’s a bubble from the beer. Anyway, its a fitting commentary to the weekend. I hope you can have some clambakes in the spirit of the piano blast, anyway!
PS. Maybe the O. stood for Office (office clam bake)? That would have meant Wild Bill & Koreen had 2 events in one day! (including the piano recital) Your Grandfather might have found the free beer at the office party worthy of notation. Or, maybe the O. stood for Optional (optional clam bake at the piano reciital)? lol.
I think the “O” between “AND” and “CLAM BAKE” is actually a musical note.
If you look closely, it appears to have an upward line attached to it.
I think there are musical notes on either side of the word “AND.”
At first, I thought both those round things on either side of “AND” were supposed to be clams. But then I looked closer and saw the staffs, or whatever the name is for the line on a musical note.
O! I do see that the O is a note, now that you’ve told me. I never was good at reading music anyway! Can’t wait ’til your next blog.
[…] mentioned before that my great-grandma was a piano teacher. She taught my dad how to play. And she held a recital […]