Jimmy Stewart, in an interview, said that he liked doing Westerns “because a Western is ours, a Western is an American thing.”

He went on to say that a good Western "gives you a sense of that world and some of the qualities those men had—their comradeship, loyalty, and physical courage."

These days, I like to make a mental list of the things that have made me feel proud of my country and my culture. (Good Westerns are on that list.) As I think about the items on my list, I consider their present state. Many are under attack, some have soured, some have folded. I think about the ones that are still standing; I consider how well they are holding up.

My music has been termed, “Americana,” a designation that is not as clean and simple as it once was. I used to think of “Americana” as folk art -- innocent, primitive, fresh. It’s not so simple anymore. No need to explain what I mean. You will infer.

Yet other expressions of “Americana” are still sweet for me.

Our great Ohio flag waves in the wind, attached to a pole on the “widow’s walk” atop our house. I have always been proud that Ohio’s flag is the only one of the 50 state flags that is in the shape of a pennant. I am proud that it is red, white and blue and has seventeen stars (because Ohio was the 17th state). I get a kick out of its large letter “O” at the center of the design.

Then there is Thanksgiving, a lovely holiday. The act of giving thanks prompts us to pause and look backward from the present moment, enjoins us to remember the blessings that have come our way during the past year and beyond. We recall historical figures whom we can still admire and historical moments we can still celebrate.

As an active participant in our democratic experiment -- a great blessing for which I give thanks -- I have done my part. Voting, jury duty, paying taxes, reciting the pledge of allegiance and so forth, belting out the national anthem. I even got myself elected to public office; I served as a County Commissioner for four years back in Richland County, in north central Ohio, where I’m from.

I give financial support to our National Parks Foundation and to WGUC, our local classical music station. And to my church. These, too, have many elements of “Americana.”

I’m proud to be identified as an American composer, i.e., one whose music sounds American. One example is a cello-piano piece I wrote last year, titled “Kit and Caboodle.”

It’s a set of variations on an original tune that could pass as an Appalachian folk hymn. Parts of it sound like the score for a Ken Burns documentary. Other parts sound more “classical.”

“Kit and caboodle” is an American colloquialism meaning “the whole lot” or “everything.” Sure enough, you’ll hear a “melting pot” of styles as the variations unfold. Like a good Western, like Thanksgiving, like the Ohio flag, it is American as can be.

This is new music, written last year. Almost no one has heard it yet. It will be included in a CD, but it won’t be issued for quite a while. Others are ahead of it in line.

To hear “Kit and Caboodle” performed by cellist Michael Ronstadt and pianist Beth Troendly, click on the link above. There's also a link to a PDF of the score.

I'd love to know what you think about this music; reply if you're inclined. But please don't feel that you are expected to reply. I'm just glad to share my work in this way.

As always, feel free to forward this message to friends who might enjoy it.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
Nov. 23, 2025