Music calms the savage beast. Remember that saying? I think of Mel Brooks’ timeless classic “Frankenstein” when I hear that saying. I’ve been playing the guitar ever since the summer of ’84 when I moved and enrolled at SDSU. There, I immediately fell in love with a gal from Texas. She was my little “cowgirl in the sand.” She gave me her sister’s Gibson acoustic guitar so I could serenade with her Neil Young songs. I’m glad she did, because now, 26 years later, I’m quite an accomplished player. When I went in to Elephant Music on Garnet Avenue yesterday to pick up some new Martin strings, I was talking to Alan de la Rosa, the manager — and now a great new friend. A paraplegic man was strumming a ukulele and a Rastafarian was banging the bongos right underneath a poster print of Bob Marley. His friend and music instructor of the store, Russell, was giving lessons. De la Rosa’s Pilipino-Americans parents migrated here back in the sixties. What they brought with them to America was their desire to start a family and live the American Dream. They also brought with them their love of music. By the time they were old enough walk, de la Rosa and his older brother, Aaron, were playing all sorts of instruments. As we were conversing, a homeless man walked into Elephant. His face was beaten and severely pock-marked; his smile was void of any teeth. His hair was mussed and matted. His clothes were torn and stained. “How are you doing today?” de la Rosa cheerfully asked. The homeless man had a look of determination on his face as he approached the counter. He reached into his pocket and pulled out three crumpled dollar bills and set them down with his chapped, blistered and weathered hands. But he had a look that was seemingly content. He pointed to the Hohner “Special 20” harmonica hanging on the wall. “I’ll take that one,” the homeless man told de la Rosa. Not even thinking twice, de la Rosa took the man’s crumpled three dollars then handed this man the $35 harmonica. The look of unbridled glee on the homeless man’s face was something I’ll never forget. It was such a compassionate gesture that Alan did for that homeless man; I had to write about my experience. De la Rosa does that on a regular basis I found out. Whether it be providing a guitar, a bongo drum or harmonica. To help those less fortunate — those who don’t have a pot to pee in, the privilege to sing the blues was about one of the nicest things I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness. I left the store proud of him and his profound gesture. I was proud of de la Rosa and some of the great people here in our seaside town — our beloved Pacific Beach.
