The Harbor View House Music 101 started with Ken Hutchinson and a bunch of harmonicas. Several years back he and another coworker---Jerry Madigan---were installing fire alarms at the Harbor View House. They had a small group of residents who would follow them around for lack of anything else to do. After awhile Ken and Jerry decided to give them a bunch of harmonicas to play; Ken found some harmonicas at a store for a dollar each. After the staff became thoroughly annoyed by this, what with the shrill, piercing sounds of harmonicas wailing down the halls at odd hours, the staff suggested that maybe Ken should teach them some songs to play since Ken had a couple of years of musical experience playing the bass, saw, and harmonica. This resulted in the organization of the first chapter of Music 101 which was really just Ken and Jerry trying to teach a handful of people how to play the harmonica in a small room. After a month Ken was able to gain access to the small auditorium up on the second floor. This was a vast improvement since the second floor auditorium had a stage with electrical outputs, a curtain, chairs, tables, and leftover props from previous plays that had been staged there in the past. After awhile the harmonicas disappeared---with exception to a few diehard residents---due to people giving them in trade for cigarettes or just plain losing them.
Rather than giving up, Ken and Jerry decided to set a more permanent weekly date (Wednesdays 7pm-8pm) and bring in more of a variety of instruments such as guitars, organs, percussion, and so forth. This had more interesting results and especially since it became agreed upon that Music 101 was not to become a tutorial classroom situation but rather a learn by experience situation. This meant that rather than memorizing and teaching top 40 type songs the residents would be encouraged to play whatever in Hell they wanted on whatever they wanted to play on. This allowed for more fun and how else can you really keep peoples attention when half of them are on meds that limit their attention span. A P.A. was acquired and microphones so that the residents could sing or talk or scream or tell jokes.
The volunteers, such as myself, came into the picture once the date was set in stone and residents remembered to show up---If enough noise is made, people just kind of gravitate towards it. Over the last couple of years there's been a handful of people such as Jeff McClean, Brittany, Mad Jack Cylinder (the Humpers), myself, and others who have come in bringing instruments and ourselves as co-collaborators, if needed. Volunteers don't get paid or any official recognition from the higher ups (who are mostly gone at night). Most of the committed volunteers (people who've come back more than twice) are really a couple of cards short themselves so they, like myself, feel at home there. I often feel pangs of homesickness when I have to pack up and go back into the world of the dead.
The music can range from blues/ bluegrass/ experimental noise/ classic rock/ tribal in the matter of several minutes. Sometimes different 
styles of music are mix and matched with amusing and/or startling results. Imagine operatic hillbilly death metal or minimalistic pyschodrama christian gospel. There's no limits to extraordinary crossovers or new accidental sounds. Generally, I've found that some of the residents that would be intimidated by playing the guitar, singing, or playing percussion would gladly play a fire bell alarm or oscillator. Some residents come to watch. Shirley is one such person. She is a resident elder wiseacre whose is part Lillian Gish, part Aunt Bea, part Redd Fox, and a pinch of both the Hilton sisters. Her presence and interaction is a barrier breaker between the stage and the self appointed audience. Meaning we try to eliminate the audience. There is also the elder Japanese lady who sits off to the side and kind of cackles at us from time to time. Most people participate after awhile, in one form or another when they're comfortable to do so. To balance out the shy ones we have the regular resident entertainers such as John who is the Harbor View's answer to a mix of Joe Cocker and a slightly askew Jim Morrison. He is a star but not in any tinsel town galaxy---he's far better than that. There's the 
crazy mardi-gras voodoo lady who is a natural percussionist and possibly one of the greatest blues singers that I've ever heard better in the sense of her humor, uncanny timing, and surreal lyrics that she sings. She can go from a dreadful caterwaul to beautiful mesmerizing singing. She'll come one night, then months will go by before I see her again. Music 101 is in many ways a bus in the way that so many people come and go; some appear again another time; some move out or just vanish. Every night that I've participated has been a little different. Sometimes there are only a few people such as Shirley and John who show up and other times there are many (usually on colder nights or when the moon is full). There are many stories I can tell that I won't and there are many memories etched into my heart. I doubt that had this been a institution, such as Camarillo once was, that a program like this could have ever started. The fact that Music 101 has gone on as long as it has is simply amazing in and of itself and it all started with harmonicas and fire alarms.
