Funny Things, Memories
At a garage sale, I noticed a large wire ring upon which hundreds of old ignition keys were attached.
The owner explained that he had kept the keys because there was always that chance somebody would lose a key to their classic car.
I thought to myself, how a key can open up a lost memory, and if one is open to present experiences, they can bring back forgotten memories.
As a teenager, I was trombonist in a jazz band that played in the basement of a coffee shop called the Casa Ventana, once a week to a small but dedicated audience.
I vividly recalled one particular summer evening, when between sessions, I was drinking coffee with a very attractive tall young lady who was to be maid of honour at my first wedding.
Fifteen minutes of delightful conversation, had been locked away along with 10,000 other quarter hour moments, except for the fact that as we talked, I could hear the radio playing something quite exquisite and unusual.
I mentioned to her that I had never heard a duet for guitar and bassoon before.
Over the years, I have pondered at odd times whether I was mistaken, but when I unlock the memory and examine it carefully, I am quite certain that I am right, although I have never heard it since – until this morning.
Thanks to the Internet, and YouTube, I found what I had wondered about all those years.
It was The Suite - Buenos Aires by Maximo Diego Pujol.
As I listened, enthralled. I was once again that teenager, living a magical moment that even at the time, I knew was special, and to be treasured.
You can listen to it here:
A strange thing happened the next day. I was looking to see if the Casa Ventana still existed. It was still there, with its beautiful curved windows, the name had been changed to Demelza hospice care for children. Demelza is the name of one of my children's short stories about a young girl.
