"IT'S A WURLITZER"

Most of you are too young to remember the old Wurlitzer Organ Commercials.  They would show some outrageous automated feature of their new electronic organ and then end with, “It’s a Wurlitzer!”  

The Wurlitzer Company was started in Cincinnati in 1856 by Franz Rudolph Wurlitzer. From importing musical instruments it turned in the 1880s to marketing automated instruments, including disc-changer machines and coin-operated pianos.

The "Mighty Wurlitzer" theatre organ was introduced in 1910.  Among Wurlitzer's electronic instruments, beginning with electric reed organs in 1947, the most important have been the fully electronic organs, especially the two-manual-and-pedals spinet type (from 1971 with synthesizer features) for domestic use.  The Wurlitzer Company came to an end in 1988, when Wurlitzer was bought by the Baldwin Piano Company which stopped placing the Wurlitzer name on pianos and organs at the end of 2009.

I’m sure you’re wondering what this has to do with me, CANCER, recurrence, remission, etc.  Well, nestled in a sunny corner of my home, surrounded by baskets of well-worn sheet music, one of my most cherished possessions resides--a Wurlitzer Omni 4000 Keyboard Computer with the Orchestrator and Swingin' Rhythm II, accurate chord recognition, and vivid solo and ensemble sounds.  It has seen me through some of the very worst times of my life, and some of the most wonderful.

When I was a child, piano lessons were not foremost on my list of favorite things.  I became an expert at developing new and exciting diversionary tactics to avoid practicing.  Although my Mother’s patience abounded, the correct notes to "When the Red, Red Robin Comes Bob, Bob Bobbin' Along" eluded me. Though she tried valiantly to pass her marvelous gift of music on to me, I turned a deaf ear.  Years later, when my mother was gone and the piano had been sold, I regretted my inattentiveness.  As my love for music grew, so did my envy of those who could make the music.

Lo and behold!  In 1987, my fairy godmother appeared looking very much like Fredda, the owner of Fredda's Organs and Pianos, and offered to grant my one wish.  With little more than a wave of her magic wand--and a check made payable to her in the amount of $8,995 plus tax--my wish was granted.  The Wurlitzer Wizard (with a slight assist from modern technology) has enabled me to create and re-create the music of my dreams.

Over the years, it has carried me back to my childhood.  Mysteriously I have been transported to a turn-of-the-century brownstone in Brooklyn, New York.  The year is l952, and I am sitting on the old wooden piano bench beside my mother.  Sitting shoulder to shoulder on that oak bench and positioning my fingers on the ivory keys, I can clearly hear my mother's voice.  "Gently, Kathleen!  Gently! Strike the keys; don't pound them!" 

At other times my Wurlitzer has transported me to a gothic church of my youth.  Strains of long-forgotten hymns reverberate from an archaic pipe organ.  Although this regression is physically impossible, emotionally I am filled, once again, with the wonder and enchantment of that heavenly music.

Often, while playing an "oldie but goodie," I am once again surrounded by departed loved ones in the midst of a holiday sing-along.  I can hear my dad's voice singing words never written by the lyricist, but words which he preferred.  My father-in-law is doing his best barbershop-quartet rendition of the tune, despite the rest of us amateurs.  And, of course, there's Bucko, my fun-loving brother-in-law, who keeps requesting "Danny Boy." Spending ten minutes at my organ with a seasonal songbook is a sure-fire method of getting me into the holiday spirit.

This electronic wonder has also doubled as an animal behaviorist.  Whether I played poorly or magnificently, loudly or softly; whether I played a march or a dirge, soft rock or hard metal, my devoted dog, Holly, would promptly go into a trancelike state. She may have been yipping and yapping at neighborhood children, or treeing a squirrel in the backyard, but when my partner in music sounded the first note, Holly would quietly meander over, sprawl across the foot pedals, and sigh in ecstasy.  My organ definitely "hath power to soothe the savage" Jack Russell terrier.  Sometimes when I play today, I can still see her lying there, sighing and utterly content.

This lovely oak cabinet, filled with eighty-eight keys deployed over two keyboards, numerous buttons, switches, bells, and whistles has always been a sedative when I'm restless and an outlet to vent my anger.  It has been a buoy for my sinking spirit and a conduit for my imagination.  It has helped me weather many a recurrence and celebrate the amazing remissions.

There have been several occasions when the many voices and moods of my new-found friend have so thoroughly enraptured and engrossed me that hours have passed without my noticing.  This time warp feature of the Omni 4000 has come in especially handy when I have been anxiously awaiting a doctor's phone call with test results, or when my children were driving or flying home in bad weather. 

It's plain to see that I love my organ.  Not as I love my husband, or my children, of course, but rather as I love the aroma of turkey roasting on Thanksgiving morning and the cozy embrace of my fuzzy, green bathrobe on a cold, wintry night.  This marvelous instrument is the embodiment of my heart's desire, my fondest hope, the wish I made upon a star, the melodic extension of my soul.  Is it any wonder I love it?  After all, "It's a Wurlitzer!"

SURVIVAL  TIP  FOR  TODAY:  Find something in your life to transport you and support you – a joyful distraction!