In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Mikus, Adam,Wieniek, and Me And all this in front of the mirror of my grandmother's old wardrobe. Wieniek strums the bald head of a wicker carpet-beater whose oak shaft becomes a neck. Adam buries his lips in the dark hole of a big cardboard tube. Mikus and I wrestle for the clarinet, a mountaineer's cane whose origins I've forgotten— even though we just agreed that this time he would bang the table! But we were always one too few, and someone had to be a multi-instrumentalist; anyway, we all doubled parts, sometimes from forgetfulness. I don't remember, but it's likely I really was worried about the neighbors. The repertoire was extensive — the whole gamut of standards. Only later, when Mikus borrowed a real licorice stick, we had to decide on something: he handled the "Grandpa Polka" best, and I picked up some skill in Bechet's "Egyptian Fantasy"— the age of specialization was on its way. 68 ...

Share