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Those crazy kids

This is a comment from June Caldwell Martin. She has a writes a column about southwestern authors for the Star.


Whenever I think of condemning the younger generation for its taste or preferences, I am reminded of my friends Bunny Herzog and Joe Baum and their indignation over modern music, specifically the latest piece that Bunny’s son, Arthur, was playing constantly.

Both Bunny and her significant other, Joe, arrived in Tucson because they were victims of cripplng rhumatoid arthritis. Actually, we didn’t use the phrase “significant other.” We didn’t refer to them as anything. They were just Joe and Bunny.

Bunny had been a member of a musical family in New York. Joe had been a professional violinist. He played in the famous Paul Whiteman Orchestra. That job being taken from him by arthritis, when he moved to Tucson, he sold insurance.

I remember Joe once told me once if you had $10,000 in the bank, you didn’t need life insurance. Of course, my father also figured out that an income of $300 a month would carry you comfortably through life. (I was surrounded by some questionable financial gurus.)

But to get back to Bunny and Joe’s dismay at Arthur’s taste in music. They felt Arthur had gone to rack and ruin (musically speaking). As mentors, they didn’t know where they had gone so wrong.

The new song that Arthur was nuts about?

Lady of Spain.

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