TubaOrNotTuba

My first tour in uniform happened when I was still quite young, able to show my age using the digits of my fingers. The polite ones of course. I had done like so many others before me enrolled in the local scout movement. Without really understanding the implications. The idea of clothing with insignia and badges and the ability to progress through my merit seemed very alluring. I was able to count my age using my fingers an I had little understanding of what was really involved here. This was the gateway drug to the military hand signs and special language. Our town was large enough to have a specialty store just for things that a Boy Scout might need. Better caps and better jerseys and camping gear. Owning my own cutlery which had been stamped out of metal and nested together seemed like a real treasure. And realistically that knife and fork and spoon were designed to last forever. As long as you didn’t lose them in the woods. I imagine that if you searched around the homes of my friends you would still find a last spoon, or fork. Depending on the meal. What we learned was that you did not need silver to eat called slap. In fact as long as it resembled a sandwich. I do not believe that my own children ever had such treasures in their kit but anything is possible. We do not learn all life skills from our care parents. I think that the little scouting store is gone although I do not know what took its place. Perhaps the decline in enrolment in the movement was enough to make people look for better quality tools. Contrary to popular belief you need more than a pocket knife to get through life. Also you do not measure a man by the quality of his tools. We just did not know any better. I keep wondering what I would buy now. Something involving rare metals probably. Plastic is not good for the environment. But in retrospect we learned the camping did not require a whole knapsack full of gear. We were not actually out there long enough and most camping was done in some kind of large military surplus canvas structure. Leftovers from bygone war. I think as for my uniform I would love to believe that it is folded away carefully in a drawer but that would too much to hope for.

There is an old joke about a town being so small that they roll up the sidewalks at night. I have never personally seen that happen. However in many places where I have lived they do remove the rails. Now, think about that for a moment. Laying rails is a big job and it serves a big purpose. Trains were a great way to travel. That someone will come along and steal all that iron strikes me as odd. After all even though the rails were not being used there was still potential. We do not remove old roadways or canals or air strips. Not even paths through the woods. But there is this vision of a future where rails go away. I have walked the rails and I am aware of the danger when there are still trains in use. This does not seem to be the condition. This is more where someone is retaking what was expropriated from them. Apparently in this province we have lost all but a few 100 meters of rail. In sections of neighbouring provinces all rail trails are common sight. If these paths were put to better use it might be a good idea but I think that all too often those responsible are terribly short sighted. If we still had rails lying around as people say we could put small trains in place that would do excellent work add moving passengers from point A to point B. They will not find the budgets to re-lay rail.

Back in my heyday I was a practicing percussionist. What others might call a drummer with a better set of lyrics. My favourite venue was a large theatre. Built before the automobile and in use after the second fire from the time of the First World War. A wonderful  Venue with seating for 700. A full stage and an orchestra pit. That was my corner of the realm from 68 to 72. The theatre dated back to be for amplified sound. If you did not play loudly you did not get heard. And as a drummer I had the tools to handle that task. Show after show over a period of years. I believe that I became better with time but there are no recordings to let others know that over a number of years I honed my craft and although there are no recordings to show my skill set, I think I held up my part of the task. What was wonderful for the rest of us in the band was behind the stage. In the rear of that oversized asbestos fire curtain. Elevators and stairwells and access to the inner workings of a theatre. I have not been back there in many decades but the hall is still in operation. What I can say, as a drummer, is that I had stick control. In fact I can only remember once when I broke a drumstick. Due to playing as loudly as I possibly could to fit in with the triumphant and of a performance. I wonder how many others of that band of minstrels are still out there remembering their moment in the limelight. I went on to do other things musically but those several years involved with musical theatre hold a special place. From where I sat on the throne we were really good. The singers and dancers perhaps not a show score With all your pencil markings and then return it to the firm in New York at the end of the run is something that few people ever get a chance to try. As for the drum set I figure it is still in place in the back corners of a high school. Too expensive to ever throw away. As for the performances I still remember most of the lyrics because when you sit through enough rehearsals you do learn the lyrics.

There are many videos available that show people going camping at the last moment. With a minimum of equipment and preparation. Rolling out along the edge of a field for example. Would I do such a thing? I probably have. Will I do it anytime soon? Probably not because I have evolved in my needs. A good bed is sort of the bottom of my list. Or top. What I have noticed about these videos is that you do not need much in the way of gear to have fun. No need for a triple room tent or large air mattress. Just the will to sleep away from home. By choice. I think we need more videos like this to impress people that getting out there is more fun than they might imagine. And that they do not need to plan for months ahead in order to get away from the house. Probably, I should follow my own advice more often. We have come close recently. Deciding at the last moment that going home was probably a better idea. Access to a refrigerator and a washroom if you understand. Still, I do like going to visit camping goods stores because there’s always something new and better. No need to spend money. Use it to feed your dreams. And do dress warmly because there is nothing worse then waking up just before dawn feeling like you have been on a snow bank in a storm. We have added an RV to our arsenal which means that the choice of where and when has changed you cannot simply park in the middle of someone’s field and except for an emergency, I would not do so. I did wake up in the middle of a field once with a very angry farmer just there in front of me. Something about being in his wheat. My bad. I should have taken a closer look before going to sleep. And I was smart enough to know that it was not a hill to die on and I simply packed up and went on my merry way. For those who care about such things, do get a good sleeping bag because it will last you for years and also make your nights last.

I recently came across an old photograph. A photo of my room in residence my first year. A room I shared and in one corner there was a bicycle. Nothing fancy and I cannot tell from the photo whether this was a yellow bike or a blue bike. I can guess at the colour because it is an incidental detail. I was not deeply attached to the bike as I had only owned it for a matter of months. And I remember how easily it left. One of my neighbours in residence who is still around wanted to use the bike to go in town check out the clubs. Of course I said yes. The next day the bike was gone. I did ask and the rider told me that he had come back and placed it against the wall of the building but that the idea of locking up a bike was foreign. He came from a much smaller town and that was something that they only had started to learn about. And so I crossed the bicycle from my inventory list and carried on with my life. I did replace it with a very similar model a couple of seasons later. My need had grown and the price had not. Such is life with a cheap bike. And after that, as my investment in my bicycles grew in value I became more particular about locking it to a fixed object. Something that would turn my bicycle from a distraction into something I would still have. It is a very good thing that I have never owned a car because I would have probably been just as easy going if someone asked to borrow the car. I was going to school in a very small town and the idea of walking a mile into town was hardly something monumental. Obviously, neither was replacing the bike or holding someone else responsible for its disappearance. We all learn lessons in life and my lesson is that you should not make someone else walk when you did not want to do so yourself. I should point out that reporting the serial number of a stolen bicycle to the local police is a wasted effort. I speak from experience here. They do not have the time to go from bicycle to bicycle with a magnifying glass trying to find the magic numbers. As it turns out police departments are just as easy going about stolen cars. The economy does not roll on pilfered bikes.

Very few musicians ever achieve fame and or fortune. We can all name someone who got to the top but along the way others try. I will not say fail because they probably took great pleasure from their time in the limelight. In my high school where there were close to 2000 people I can remember two. The proverbial one in 1000. One of them, Paul, was the sound of the Doors and I think they were his inspiration anytime he got on stage. I never saw him on stage but I was young. The other, Ian, went a step further. He started a band and found the name in the back pages of a large dictionary in a foreign language. This band also had a logo which adorned the covers of their notebooks in school and they had actual flyers printed up. If you’re going to do a band think big. Once again I did not get to see them perform but they were a local legend in our local high school. And that is pretty much how any band starts out I think. I wonder if I had managed to get my own instrument if I would have followed a similar path. Probably not because I had other aims for my life. But I do think back and remember that there were those who made the effort. I wonder where they are now? In the case of Paul I saw his name many years later in a list of Canadian rock musicians which means that he managed to get beyond the boundaries of our city. As for Ian I think he married and found a job in local industry. Music is a dream but not always a way to feed yourself.

Over the years I have investigated a number of hobbies. In my case it seems that all of those hobbies involve particular pieces of equipment. Music, photography, radio, cycling, and others a very long list. In all of these hobbies one of the fun parts is trying to determine whether or not you need newer and better equipment. Of course the answer is always yes but most of us have limited budgets so we must choose carefully. It still is fun to see what is coming down the pipes as they say. What would there be that would allow me to acquire more gear. It’s actually an intellectual exercise. Trying to judge whether or not the latest and greatest can can adequately replace something you have on hand. Or compliment that something. I realize that some of these hobbies can only be practiced using one piece of equipment at a time. Riding 2 bicycles at once is more of a circus trick. Taking multiple photos with multiple cameras is an exercise in frustration. Trying to play two tubes at once? It could be done I suppose although I have never had the kind of budget that allow me to buy even one tuba. Still I find myself going to the catalogs and the equipment reviews and the forums to see what other people have found that goose is that part of the brain that lives for new equipment. We live in an economy where the where your budget is the only limiting factor. I have not bought any new gear for a while but I still remember the feeling. I have rarely had buyer’s remorse. And, because I tend to be rational in my choices I have managed to keep the good stuff around four years. Decades even. It makes my basement really interesting for other people. I keep hoping that there will be somebody invent something really really new. Something that would allow me to go off on attack and discover new ways to find joy with my credit card. I try not to search too often because there’s always something that is close to being right. If you wonder where I spend a lot of my spare time it is in reviews of equipment done by other people. I have never done a review. It is still not too late I suppose, I have not had anything marvellous to show the world for awhile. Maybe next year. I am among other things an optimist.

I remember vaguely an old legend about how human goes from 4 legs to two legs to three. A way of showing the progression of our mobility as we get older. Here’s the thing. I have now received the suggestion from several family members they should consider adopting the use of a walking stick. Something to flail at monsters I think. Or to keep me from falling over. To be fair I have not found myself falling over so I have to wonder if they’re seeing something that I am not. Monsters, perhaps. I suppose I could take a hatchet and go out into the woods and cutoff stroke branch. Like people used to do in the good old days. Before my time. I do not remember seeing a clip a collection of walking sticks around the home. And the other risk if my going off into the woods is that I might not find my way back. There is also a certain number of legends about that involving dropping bread crumbs and small rocks from your pocket as you go. Is this the next step in my life. Trying to keep from getting lost in the woods. It’s a real risk because we have woods around here. No sidewalks. Was I safer when I lived in the big city? I will have to give that some thought. And if I do find a big stick along the way I can drag it home behind me. I mean who would notice an old man and a stick. Other than an old dog. Oh well just thinking about it. Nothing changed yet. But if you see me with a big stick know that it was given as a suggestion as well as a gift. At least, I think so. Who would have thought? Getting a walking stick before my 1st century.