Editor’s Note—In this issue, we dug deep into our archives to pick two of our favorite Strange But True harp stories from the first year of Harp Column. We think a good story, like good music, is timeless.
Iwas playing in a fine dining restaurant one evening, when a rather intoxicated man passed me and then began to stumble. He grabbed hold of the column of my harp in order to right himself, remaining oblivious to the fact that I was at the other end of the harp. Balance regained, he turned, proceeding to get his foot trapped under the base of my harp, which was still pulled back as I played. While he searched for his foot, his trousers dropped—not to the floor, not even to his knees. Nonetheless, his pants were no longer situated neatly about his waist, his shirttails were no longer out of sight, and his belt buckle was no longer attached to the other end of his belt. It was all I could do to resist the urge to segue into “Send in the Clowns.”
—Diane Michaels, Union City, New Jersey
(originally published in the November/December 1993 issue of Harp Column)
Iwas driving to a wedding east of Cleveland. I was running late, wearing my long dress with curlers in my hair. A few miles from my exit, I saw some smoke coming from the car, but I pressed on, determined to get to the wedding.
On the exit ramp, the car finally pooped out. Steam was pouring out from under the hood. I ran up to the nearest gas station (luckily there was one), pale-faced and panicked. Apparently, I made such a fuss that the other patrons at the pumps were trying to think of ways to help me.
There happened to be three guys there with their pick-up truck. They were kind of dirty, with long hair—scuzzy, if I may—but they had hearts of gold. They loaded me (still in curlers), harp, bench, strings, and music into the pick-up, and off to the wedding we went.
I made it in time to move the harp in, brush my hair, and play “Evergreen” as peacefully as ever. I will always call this my hitch-hiking story. •
—Jody Guinn, Chagrin Falls, Ohio
(originally published in the May/June 1994 issue of Harp Column)
