Liechtensteiner Polka second image shows an interesting look and use of my choices for the best Polka music colors. That and the style of stripping certainly sets this artwork apart from everything before it and probably whatever else is yet to come. It’s a Polka, so I want a happy, bouncy, nothing fancy here, look. In retrospect, I have remembered another story about the Polka beyond my accordion.

My high school years were split,  so I was a junior when I meet Allen, who would eventually be my best man at my wedding. His parents were of German heritage, typical for the area, and on weekends all around Central Wisconsin on weekend nights there was live polka music, and on Sunday television localized polka dancing. I remember tagging along with Allen and the family to a local dance hall especially the one in Rozellville Wis. I do not recall if I was ever a good polka dancer, but I do remember their daughter, Charlene.  She had short dark hair, and beautiful eyes.  She also walked with a slight limp but that did not bother me. What I saw was a beautiful girl, that was  smart and more worldly than me.  She taught me how to polka. I fell for her. I became concerned with my acne medicine. And yet by my senior high school year,  rock ‘en roll  became my music. I stopped polka dancing. Charlene and I had drifted away from each other. Our time dancing to the polka is not my only memory of Charlene.  What I long remember is our good night scene from our first date.

We were in her house, the lights where down low,  left on by her sleeping parents.  I was about to leave when to my surprise she wrapped her arms warmly around me. And then, in a moment that remains one of my most regrettable life choices:  it did not happen.  I did not kiss her.  I said something about this being our first date, and I did not think it was right thing to do. It could also be that I  wanted her to see me as a perfect gentleman. Whatever it was, she dropped her arms.

Our relationship was never the same. My last memory of Charlene was hurt feelings when I learned that she was dating a Brylcreem hair guy in a fast car.  A few years later, hanging out with my best friend Alan,  I discovered Charlene’s, now older,  younger sister, Linda.  She was aggressive, and to quote Dylan “Ah, but I was  so much older than, I’m younger than that now.”

Both sisters for very different reasons played their part in the story of who I am today. Maybe then it is not just because I played the Liechtensteiner polka on my accordion that I am painting this music. Maybe it has something to do with long ago memories of dancing the polka. This artwork may be a part of a Once-upon-a-time tale of a boy and a girl swirling about the dance floor. I am that boy with a smile on my face, and my first love in my arms. Together, we where both lost in the music. Once again, together.

Scott Von Holzen