OK, OK!   Having been spurred on by Keith Reedman's admission of
"lurking" at the MMD site for some time without a formal "hello" -- and
shamed by Nancy Fratti's and Editor Robbie's pleas for the music box
people to stand and be recognized -- here sits one recent MMD subscriber
who has more interest in music combs than tracker bars.

I've been collecting since 1968, when I bought a broken-down table-model
Regina.  My interest took firm hold a year later, thanks to a generous
retired U.S. Air Force meteorologist, Tom Brines.  Tom owned a tiny
clock-and-watch shop in Boulder, Colorado, where I was in grad school
in '69 and '70.  I had taken my Regina into Tom's place with the hope of
getting it straightened out; it played, but was not musical.

Tom's attitude was both simple and honest: "I've never repaired one of
these, but the drive mechanism is basically a clockwork.  The music part
is all new to me, though, so I don't want to take on the job.  But if you
want to come in here on Saturday mornings from 8 to noon, you can join my
other students and I'll teach you what I can about fixing it yourself."

"Gosh," I said, "that would be great.  But the University of Colorado
already gets all my money for tuition, so I don't think I can afford
your school, too."

Tom -- who I soon learned had a heart of gold but wore the facade of a
Sumo wrestler -- growled, "Did I say anything about cost?  The only thing
I ask is that if you come, keep coming every week.  Don't start if you
don't plan to stick with it for at least six months.  By then we'll both
know if you've got any feel for this work or not."

I started clock school the next Saturday, joining three other students
ranging in age from twice to three times my own.  I asked Tom why he gave
these free classes.  "If I don't teach a couple of people to take over
when I'm gone," Tom said, "this craft will die out.  I learned from a man
who made me promise to teach clock or watch repair to at least two
others.  I use my Saturday mornings to fulfill that promise."

Eventually, I knew enough to bring my Regina up to a pretty good
standard.  In 1971, I bought a Style 81 Regina Chime Clock -- a 7-foot
grandfather, and big job to restore.  Tom's whole class worked with me
on that one, with its simple Seth Thomas grandfather movement and its
complex Regina chime unit in the clock's base.  It has been running
almost without interruption for 25 years, suffering some ills through six
moves, but it stands today in our front hall in Chagrin Falls, Ohio,
monitoring the passage of all who come and go.  I've owned a couple more
of these over the years; one I bought from Marty Roegnik.  If I have a
specialty, this must be it.

I joined the Musical Box Society International as soon as I discovered
it in 1968, and I've been both more and less active in the interim than
I am today.  My only meaningful contributions to MBSI, from which I have
taken so much:  I helped with a story on Regina Chime Clocks for the MBSI
Journal, which was mostly written by John Bishop.  (He died shortly
after, very young).  The story ended up in the Silver Anniversary
Edition, published by the Society for its 25th year; my clock is pictured
there.  I also assisted Bill Edgerton with his compilation of material
for that massive undertaking: I edited the history of the Society that
begins the book.

My collecting has been almost exclusively in the music box field, but I
do have one piano:  a 1923 Chickering Ampico A in a Louis XV case, which
I was very fortunate to have mechanically restored by Art Reblitz in the
early '70's.  Art, too, was generous with his time and patience, allowing
me to assist with the restoration in small and simple ways that helped me
understand the machine without compromising his finished product.

There have been many music boxes which have come and gone.  A few have
stayed: a Regina Style 35 automatic disc-changer; a Regina Style 40 in a
hand-painted cabinet, which the collectors call "Rookwood" (for which I
was lucky to find a matching Rookwood sheet-music cabinet); a rare Style
217 Regina Bell Box.  There are five early cylinder music boxes, includ-
ing examples by LeCoultre, the Nicole brothers and Paillard.

My career is in commercial radio broadcasting, first in Denver (KVOD),
then Chicago (WFMT), and now Cleveland, where I manage (and co-own)
WCLV(FM), which I dare say is one of the best-known and most successful
commercial classical radio stations in this country.  We are not only
Cleveland's source for classical music, news and arts information (and
have been continuously since 1962), but our Radio Seaway syndication arm
provides programming via satellite and digital audio tape to more than
550 public radio stations all over the U.S.

It is probable that your local NPR station carries one or more of our
products:  Adventures in Good Music with Karl Haas, weekly concerts by
The Cleveland Orchestra, the Detroit Symphony, European festivals and
orchestras, Weekend Radio with Robert Conrad (my partner), and a dozen
others.  Check our web site (www.wclv.com) for lots of info on WCLV,
including how to listen to us in real time and in FM-quality stereo.
We'd love to add you to our ever-widening audience, wherever you may be.

So -- my too-long introduction is complete.  If it bored you, I accept
the blame, but Keith Reedman, Nancy Fratti and Editor Robbie must share
the responsibility for my having squiggled out from under my rock in the
first place.  And Robbie, I'm looking for the Ogden Nash lines re:
exclaimers (!); I think we have it on a recording _somewhere_ in the
station's library....

OK -- where are the _rest_ of the music boxers?

Rich Marschner¶
3/30/43¶
Chagrin Falls OH   (216) 464-0900    rmarschner@wclv.com

 [ Welcome aboard, Rich, and "stay tuned" for anything and everything!
 [ I think I even have a CD with narration or liner notes by Bob Conrad.
 [ Small world!   -- Robbie