‘I can take 300 people that are stone-cold sober and get them to sing.’

Elsa Mueller doesn’t need a microphone--at age 61 her voice still transcends the din of raucous revelers and coaxes a tune from trailer-park audiences. “Something Elsa” was born in Germany and reared in Hoboken, she was married while in her teens and joined her husband selling hot dogs at the local pier. The accordion took her fancy at age 25 and, by her 40s, she was touring the Caribbean and the Mediterranean on cruise ships, playing her “stomach Steinway,” singing songs in eight languages and putting humor inherited from her German father to good use. She says talk about retirement in San Diego among the crews of luxury ships prompted her move from New Jersey to North Park 17 years ago. Her first California gig was at the Hilton hotel on Mission Bay. She moved to two acres in Vista 11 years ago and entertains at North County parties, bars and restaurants--but she has been known to bring out her accordion just about anyplace. She says she insists on having fun wherever she goes. Times staff writer Nancy Reed interviewed her and Dave Gatley photographed her.

I can sing for hours in German. We were not allowed to speak English in the house where I grew up. My most busiest month is October--this past October I made $3,000 in 36 hours. When I work, I get ‘em all turned on.

In California it’s different than in New Jersey. In New Jersey they book three months in advance; here three days in advance they say, oh, let’s have a party.

I am not a musician, I am an entertainer. I can take 300 people that are stone-cold sober and get them to sing. I do a lot of charity for seniors and shut-ins and things. One woman said she hadn’t smiled, or laughed or sung since her husband had passed away two years ago. I have been in convalescent hospitals where a guy who hadn’t spoken in a year started to sing. That is very rewarding.

I grew up in Hoboken, Frank Sinatra’s hometown. I used to play for his mother at her home. She would bake 500 raviolis and invite all her friends and call me up.

I started playing as a hobby. My uncle brought a little accordion home from Germany. I got all excited about it. There was a shop in Hoboken, where the owner played the accordion for me, and the tears began rolling down my cheeks.

When you are German, money is to be saved, especially when you got a husband 16 years older than you--we had a hot dog stand at the time. The store owner said he’d give me the accordion for $98. I clipped my husband five days out of the cash box and every time he sent me for onions or whatever, I would go to the store and practice.

When I knew about five German songs, I popped out at a picnic and everyone was thrilled. He said: “How much was it?”

I went to the VA hospitals in New Jersey just to break into the audience. I call ‘em freebies, but it’s bread cast upon the water--it comes back buttered.

My first job was on a freighter in a harbor. They give these parties to get people interested in shipping with their freight company. So I pull out the accordion and sing “Whenever We Kiss.” Somebody said, “Beautiful,” and it was just so great.

After that I played the country clubs. I went on 56 cruises performing.

I learned the languages strictly through records and people. We were on the 19-hour ferry boat to Cabo San Lucas, and I did a show in the cafeteria just for fun--it was mostly Mexican peasants. I got them to do the chicken dance. They were just so wonderful. At the end they were shouting “Viva Elsa! Viva Elsa!”

I have gotten some tremendous self-worth in the last few years through AA--as the adult child of an alcoholic. Now I just ask all kinds of money and I get it. In 1980, in a smoke-filled restaurant, I worked for four hours for $60. Recently I worked in a smoke-filled place in Temecula and I made $475.

I had always had this idea of being a star, so I went to Vegas in ’77. It was so scary, I wanted to pull my tail in and leave. I secured myself a job at the Alpine Village there. Someone from Minnesota saw me and said, “Do you want to come to Diamond Jim’s in Minnesota?” I was 51 and I got in my car and drove there. I am a fearless Leo. And I have a faith in God. I don’t worry, I pray.

I took the name “Something Elsa” when I printed up cards in San Diego. The minute I put comedienne on the card, I got funnier.

I let my hair go white this year--I used to dye it red--and I quit wearing makeup. I tell young people, don’t ever fear growing old, because it’s like climbing a mountain. The higher up you climb the farther out you can see. Every age has its beauty.