You probably knew Roger best as half of “Roger and Monika” or “Monika and Roger.” We were almost always together because, while he was just as happy hanging out at home, he seemed to want to come along with me to whatever I was doing. Those who knew him remember a number of things about him, but what few know is that he believed (and often said) that his purpose in life was to make up for the unusually difficult childhood I had. And that’s what he did for the 45 years we spent together! That was the foundation of our love story—enjoying our common interests, supporting our differences. In our relationship, no day passed by that we didn’t express our luck at finding each other and recognizing that we belonged together. And then, suddenly, after a month-long battle with metastatic cancer that began in mid-March, he was gone. You might remember him as the laid-back guy with the quick wit, just the right comeback, the pun that made you groan, the joke that interrupted conversation with laughter, the incredibly clever and quick remark that somehow was the right fit for the current situation. Or, maybe, you remember him as the musician who played the fiddle, who inserted his favorite tunes into the jam, who added so much with his harmonica playing, who energized the music with his incredible guitar backup, or insisted on not just instrumentals but singing old songs we all knew. On the serious side of music, he taught music theory workshops showing students that with a little bit of understanding of basic knowledge, one can learn to play anything. Roger was also the guy who seemed to know something about, well, anything. His interests varied widely. Besides his love of music, he had a curiosity about how things worked. His abiding curiosity attracted people to him, especially children, though he never had any of his own. For example, he rarely passed a child on the street, in the grocery store, or wherever, without pulling a small vial of liquid out of his pocket and blowing bubbles to the delight of the children and the adults with them. Roger loved science, math, history, and the cycles that occur in life. He was a magician as a teenager and a computer professional as an adult. He used to say it was the same thing. He was well read but only non-fiction, especially biographies of people who were compelled to solve impossible challenges. When left to himself, he watched only programs that taught him something. Because of my involvement in community boards and committees, Roger was a regular at many activities including FolkWorks, Santa Monica Sister City, Santa Monica History Museum, Rotary, Music Mends Minds, USC, and Santa Monica College events among others. Because of these involvements and our travels, we made many friends around the world and have hosted countless international visitors as well as touring musicians. However you may remember Roger, know that he was a genuinely nice, caring person, intelligent, talented, very funny, and loved by family, friends, colleagues, and most everyone who spent any time with him.  If he sounds too perfect to you, I can tell you he probably wasn’t, but he was for me. —————————————————————————————————————————————————–

For the seven years that FolkWorks printed a hard copy newspaper and distributed with help from a lot of volunteer friends, Roger Goodman wrote the column “Keys to the Highway – Adventures in Music Theory.” We’ve collected them all here for your reading pleasure. What were they about, you may ask? He explored and explained music theory in a simple way that everyone could understand. You need to put aside 15 minutes a day and peruse one at a time. You won’t be sorry.

Roger Goodman’s 2007 Columns

Roger Goodman’s 2006 Columns

Roger Goodman’s 2005 Columns

Roger Goodman’s 2004 Columns

Roger Goodman’s 2003 Columns

Roger Goodman’s 2002 Columns

Roger Goodman’s 2001 Columns