In descending chronological order, some folks making a joyful noise with a squeezebox. The first is a snapshot from the 50s, then a member of a hosiery convention in the 20s, then a daguerreotype circa 1860.
When I was very young, a traveling salesman of accordions came by our rural home. He persuaded my mother to let my older brother have a go with his contraption, though there was no chance we'd be buying one. My brother squeezed some cacophonous racket out of the thing, and our little terrier Wink threw her head back and howled in harmony.
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Wink, what fun! I read Annie Proulx's "Accordian Crimes" and really wished I knew how to play one.
ReplyDeleteI've never understood how they work. From polka to zydeco, folks seem to have fun when one is playing.
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