Did you ever sell something and then immediately regret it as soon as it's gone? That happened to me when I sold my mandolin. I was low on funds, so I placed an ad in the Lakeshore Weekly. As soon as the edition came out I got about a dozen calls, one right after the other. It seemed like everyone wanted my mandolin. I sold it to the first caller. I've regretted it ever since.

    I found my mandolin in a small inependent music store in the town of Ephrata, PA. It was hanging on the wall, and a shaft of sunlight coming through the window cast a luster on the finish that gave the instrument a golden glow as though it had been burnished by the hands of many owners. It was a used instrument, and I got it for $100. 

    I was subjected to both flute and piano lessons growing up, but I thought I might like to try a stringed instrument. I was looking for something to do that would take my mind off my troubles, and I thought a mandolin might be easy enough to learn. It has four double strings and is tuned like a violin.

    There are people in my family who can play music by ear, but I have been denied this gift. So I bought music to go with the instrument. Any violin music will do along with whatever is available for mandolin.

    I took my new acquisition home and began to play. The only piece of music I ever learned to play by ear was Lara's Theme from Doctor Zhivago. I learned to play it on one string. It took me awhile to learn the tremola technique. The mandolin is a quiet instrument, so the tremolo technique give the sound more volume .

It took a good bit of practice so I was thrilled when I first achieved the harmonic effect. I felt as though my heart were vibrating in sweet sychronicity with the mandolin string.

    As I became better, I felt myself transported to other times, other places as I played. I would picture myself in a Gypsie encampment with firelight dancing off my instrument. Perhaps I was playing mandolin accompaniment to Ralph Stanley on banjo at a bluegrass concert. I pictured myself playing Vivaldi's Mandolin Concerto to an audience of men and women in powdered wigs.

    I played many styles from bluegrass to folk to Rennaisance and classical. As I played, I began to feel my troubled mind finally healing. The mandolin is an instrument of the sweetest tones. It may not be boistrous like a guitar. It may not have the sonorous tones of a cello or the sustained notes of a violin string, but I learned after much practice to call forth the sweetest tones from my mandolin. I miss it terribly.