As a young child in the 1950s, I remember spending summers at my grandparents’ house in Detroit. Their fancy black-and-white mahogany-encased television set was the centerpiece of their living room.
Marie and Charlie would plop their granddaughter on the floor in front of the screen, while they reclined in overstuffed chairs, to enjoy “The Lawrence Welk Show” — a light and bubbly collection of “Champagne music” broadcast from Los Angeles.
My grandparents were enthralled by the “an’ a one, an’ a two” accordion musician striking up his band and dishing up their oldies, but goodies. Their granddaughter, on the other hand, was bored out of her mind.
As I passed through my teenage years — and truthfully up until just recently — I considered the accordion to be an unfortunate instrument inflicted on some nerdy kid so he or she could entertain aging relatives at family gatherings. The accordion was a thing of the past. Boomers focused…