Two saxaphones and two clarinets have been biding their time in a bedroom closet. Two weeks ago I pulled one of the clarinets, the Noblet, and took it to an instrument repair shop in Elkorn for repadding and re-corking. Today I retrieved a gleaming, new-looking horn, and have begun the long road back to proficiency.

It's going to be painful. With just a few minutes practice today my lower lip is jelly and my right thumb numb. But, oddly enough, I remember pretty much everything, although I haven't touched a clarinet in probably 50 years. The fingers found the keys, I could read the staff, and I had no trouble with the 3 sharps in Adestes Fideles, although I do forget what key that is.

Only two problems—the embouchure lasts only about 8 bars, and Pax seems to think I'm being atacked by something savage.

My goal: by this time next year I will once again be able to play the Mozart Clarinet Concerto in A, I will be able to play duets with neighbor Phil who practices his piano every day, and Bri and I will present a little guitar/clarinet number at next year's Thanksgiving party.

I'm a strong believer in slow, incremental improvement, and this will be a good test.

The other three instruments in the closet will have to wait a few more years, most likely, for their ressurection, but I can envisage a swinging little combo called the GrandKid 5.