Jim Dishman

About 3 months ago (Sep, 2004(?)), I got an email from a guy I played with as a lad on Olympia Street in the old neighborhood near 8-Mile and Beech-Daly; Jim Dishman.

Jim and I made music together back then; he was taking pretty intensive private lessons in accordion, and was trying to translate that into skills on the piano in the basement. I think that as he was growing up he figured out that, for him, accordion was secondary to being able to play a "regular" keyboard (e.g., piano).

Anyway, back then I brought my feeble guitar "skills" to the table—along with a reel-to-reel that we could do some multi-tracking on—and we dinked around with trying to be budding musicians for a spell.

Well, Jim and I did some email correspondence, and I contacted him when I got to Detroit. I was a little trepedatious, but I think we made this little reunion work out OK!

It turns out that Jim had gone on to play weddings for 15 years during his young adulthood. Well, this showed when we went up to his room to play around together with his keyboard and Strat guitar. It was fun, though Jim had more a solid fundament of skills than I. There were a few places where we connected, where I was playing a relatively simply structured piece of music I had learned, and Jim could quickly home in and do some nice accompanyment.

Anyway, Jim now lives on the East side ('zat right?), and works on the West side, as an engineer serving the Detroit auto industry. He picked me up on the way home from work, took me home, dined (if not wined) me, and I got to meet his family; the queen bee being, naturally, his lovely wife Colleen, pictured here in the very act of showering affection on...

...this very lad shown here, Carlos, her grandchild. This guy is one of the sweetest little boys I have ever met. He's good-natured and intelligent—a potent highball, to be sure. I harbor such high hopes for this lad as can be sustained by someone who is, after all, a mere acquaintance.

Just for kicks, I put together this little montage of Carlos on a Hubble "deep space" background, for adorational purposes (if you go for that sort of thing). Enjoy.

But Jim and I talked about old times, music, work, our respective blocks of intervening years since we last had contact, religion, a little politics...you know, guy stuff like that.

A funny thing happened while I was there. The phone rang, and it was Jim's mother. I fondly remember both Jim's parents. Anyway, a weird memory came to me in a rush. When I was quite small, I was sort of a lost little boy, given to running around the neighborhood and getting into bits of trouble; I recall that I wasn't evil or rebellious, just sort of...acting from the unconscious, à la A. S. Neill/Summerhill. On one of these little excursions, I sashayed into the Dishman's house, and went walking around looking at stuff. I was there when they came home. They found my in their house, gave me a little spanking and/or scolding (don't quite recall), and sent me home.

Anyway, at that point in my nostalgic rush, Jim thrust the phone in my direction; his mom wanted to talk to me. I took the phone, greeted Mrs. Dishman, and said, "Don't worry, I'm being quite good these days." She had a laugh at that, and we went on to have a lovely little conversation. What a gracious lady she always was, and still is. Kinda wish I had a pic of her to put up here....