I am sitting here practicing my horn. Since I was taken in by the Corsicana Swing Orchestra as its resident last chair trumpet, I have had to practice to try and stay even with the band. There are some pretty fine musicians in this group. So, I have to play my horn. I like playing my horn so it its not a major issue frankly.
But my skills are down over the years. Now I play about a page out of a method book, then, I must find something to do while the ole lips rest a moment. Sometimes I play a video game on the puter - this time I am writing these paragraphys. It is all part of my great plan of survival.
On Wednesday, my wife & I drove west of town to an estate sale. It was a 50s style house with 50s style furniture. Really nice house. On their washer was a stack of 6 trumpet method books. Their copywrite dates were in the mid-50s making me think the previous own must be my general age. . . or older. I snapped the books up for 50 cents each - a great buy for someone who needs to practice and has limited music to visit. My favorite was the Saint-Jacome's Grand Method. Another interesting one is the "60 Rambles For Trumpet" by Leon Lester (Philadelphia Orchestra) and adapted by Sigmund Hering (of the same) 60 short melodies pub. about 1955. never seen that book - not a major surprise, since many music books have escape my observation.
Back to the Estate Sales: this past couple of weeks we have gone to 3 estate sales. It gets us out of the house, we learn the neighborhood better, and we can legally go through other people's stuff without being arrested. My wife signed up on a website which sends notice of sales within 100 miles.
What I taking away from these sales, no, not items or junk, but how sad the estate sale is. Here is a home that once had a full family living a full life. Time moved in and now there is an empty house filled with stuff. A stranger sits at the door taking your money as you cart prizes under your arm pit out the door. So far we have bought 2 blankets for the dogs, an oil filter remover wrench, a lid off a broken jar, one bowl perfect for holding peanuts on the breakfast table, my music books, and not much else. They are sad events I have decided.
Today's sale was in Kerens...5 miles over yonder way. Gonna try to describe the place. It was a small house, probably originally one bedroom. The guy added on a room. He added on a hall. He added another room. Down a couple of steps - a bedroom, another hall, a bath, a back porch, a side porch, a hole in the kitchen wall to the back porch, a covered shed, a 30 ft covered area 6 1/2 ft tall leading to shed. Two more back porches with storage, a converted garage, passage ways down the sids of the house, a front area with a jucuzi cover with plastic roof, doors to nowhere, will stop here. I am not sure the house had 1500 sq ft - maybe, it went everywhere, every room an inch or two up or down, concrete pour out of a wheelbarrow to make a floor - cannot explain.
Inside the house, junk everywhere. The waterbed had a regular mattress and oxygen breathing tubes thrown about - on the bed table, a really large stack of Playboys. Shelves were hammered on the walls. I cannot explain any more. He was the J P of that town for years. Once he started building, he didn't know where or how to stop. We were told a story about a lady who lived there with a guy who came down from Oregon - not the JP Feller, but another. And now 2 boys inherit the place - they live hundreds of miles away.
It will take a shovel to empty that place. My wife said to bring a bulldozer. Considering all, the house was not dirty or smelly. Too many old people and nobody to empty the place. I pity my own children someday.
Many of my closest do not know that I have junk. My junk and your junk are two different things of course. My junk should be spelled junque because of its class. I own maybe 3000 key rings. Now there is something you prolly didn't know. When my oldest daughter was in college majoring in Range and Wildlife, she became a member of the Texas Tech Plan Judgin Team. She got to travel to Florida for a competition. Naturally, being a good child, she brought me a present from Florida. This is in the 1980s.
When she gave it to me, I remember saying, "I guess I am collecting key rings now." It was an off the cuff remark. From that one keyring, my pile has grown. In this house, I have no place to display my keyrings. They are in the garage. I do love keyrings. I do.
Many years prior, I was sitting in my mom's living room - Christmas, the whole family was there - my 3 little kids, BJ, etc. It was a festival to be sure. I made the off the cuff remark to my mom that I would like to own about 200 or 300 music boxes. I quickly added that I did not want to acquire them one at a time - I wanted all 200 at one time. It seemed like a request that could go ignored. You're wrong. I have around 300 music boxes. It just happened. No place in the house for them; stored in the garage getting dusty and spider ridden. I do love music boxes. I do.
So the question:
How long should a daily blog be?
Maybe more about collections tomorrow.
It is very close to feeding time for Fritz (see yesterday's blug)
A "STONE" is a family word for a personal story or thought, not quite an essay or short story. We moved to central Texas to be near a daughter. We are down to only one wirehair dachshund - Sadie. (Goodbye in 2021 to Oscar the ball boy and Bruno the larger twin) & my wife -- penned by a retired Texas H.S. band director - just nonsense thoughts unrelated to each other or anything other than what's happening and comments.
Friday, June 3, 2011
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