the saxophone

every year over cowboy breakfast on Sunday morning we have our traditional Woodzie laugh fest – mostly talking about what kept us up all night. One year it was somebody with a drum – I think he was beating it with two empty bottles of tequila while somebody sang old folk songs at the top of their lungs. This year it was the saxophone until 4:00 in the morning.  It projected the Pink Panther theme at high volume from one end of the campground to the other. It was surrealistic. But think about this…. what if the saxophone was the only instrument you could play and you had music in you you had to get out? In the last three days I’ve been shocked to hear as many people saying they loved it as I have heard say they hated it. Taylor, for one and he’s sober as a church mouse, sat in that song circle and LOVED it…. he said the guy kept offering to play quieter but they were telling him to go for it. This is just another funny, classic Woodzie story. Like I’ve said many times before, the camping trip you remember best and the story you treasure and tell over and over is when the tent fell on you and you slept in the rain and survived it. We’ll all remember this Woodzie as, like Kim said, the one with the nonconsentual sax. I venture to say he had sax with all of us. Five years from now somebody will ask you “were you are the Woodzie with the saxophone?” And I promise you, you’ll have a memory of whether or not you were. Thanks sax guy!

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