Things Ain't What They Used To Be

I visited two Newcastle music shops today. One, a store where I used to work, the other a store where I didn't used to work although some might say I didn't used to work in either. I was in search of a tenor saxophone thumb rest cushion. Naturally I tried my former employers first. The young man looked somewhat bemused until I described it as a piece of rubber that slides over the saxophone thumb rest. His eyes brightened as enlightenment took place. He offered me a clarinet thumb rest cushion. I explained to him that a clarinet was smaller than a tenor saxophone and that, as such, it wouldn't fit.

"All we have, I'm afraid."

I muttered an "It wouldn't have happened when I worked here" and headed down town to the other establishment.

The sales person here said, "That's a job for the repairman. Bring your instrument in and he'll fit it for you."

I said, "It's a piece of rubber that slides over the thumb rest." I may have inserted an Anglo-Saxon adjective into the sentence.

Once again enlightenment dawned and he too produced a clarinet thumb rest cushion. This placed me in a dilemma. I could either buy a clarinet to fit the cushion or else I could wait until my next visit to that sax emporium off Shaftesbury Avenue. As this will be in about 2 weeks time I opted for the latter option.

Lance.