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The music goes round and round at Vanessa Brown's party — and it comes out soap bubbles. 8etty Lynn provides zither accompaniment for Brett King and tuba.
Dick Erdman, who filled Brett's tuba with soapy water, settles down for a hot lick at the drums. "Just call me Krupa," he told Wanda. But having stuffed her ears with cotton, Wanda remains unmoved during the performance.
music! music! music!
continued
Vanessa's Tuna Crunch Salad
1 No. y2 can Star-Kist Tuna (Fancy Solid Pack' or Chunk Style) tablespoons chopped sweet or dill pickle 1^2 tablespoons minced onion
1 cup mayonnaise
V/z tablespoons lemon juice
V/z cups crisp shredded
cabbage 1 small bag potato chips,
coarsely crushed
lettuce
tomato wedges
Combine tuna, -pickle, onion, mayonnaise and lemon juice; chill in covered dish until ready to serve Ar>rl
juice; cnuu m cuvtrcu uisn umu reauy iv serve. Add cabbage and toss together. Just before serving, add half of crushed potato chips and toss lightly. Heap into shallow, lettuce -lined salad bowl, sprinkle rest of chips on top, garnish with tomato wedges. Serves 6.
people have more fun. Vanessa went back to the piano. Wanda Hendrix gave her violin a pleading look and began to saw. Rand Brooks put a guitar on his knee. Brett King wrestled with a tuba while Betty Lynn decided which end of her zither was up. Dick Erdman drowned them all out as he pounded a set of drums.
"New composition?" I asked gaily.
"It's the 'Johnson Rag.' " Rand replied in a tone that made me feel like crawling into the tuba.
"Don't worry," Betty said. "We'll perfect it — one of these sessions."
The sessions usually occur on Saturdays. But you never can-tell. Sometimes, they happen on a Sunday. No one's very good. No one's very serious. Which means they always have the time of their lives.
I settled back to watch. Suddenly the room was comparatively quiet. Everyone's eyes were fastened on Brett and the tuba. His eyes were closed and he was blowing hard. He didn't know that he was blowing bubbles.
"What talent,]' Wanda gasped.
Brett's eyes flew open and he held his instrument at arm's length, which is quite a feat if you've ever held a tuba. "Aw, all it takes is soapy water," said Dick Erdman (who'd supplied same). To add to the confusion, Dick suddenly broke into a drum solo, a hangover from his days in a high school band. (Continued on page 79)