When I think of June, now that I am a bit older (conservatively speaking), I think of all of the nights I spent playing trombone in bands, combos, night clubs and arenas of all kinds. Hundreds & hundreds of jobs concentrated over a ten year period of time. And most all of them enjoyable from a playing aspect. Not much thought usually went into what to wear, it was usually my gig suit, which was a black tux with a black bow tie and a white shirt. The kind of suit that you could stand in a corner by itself after a while. The other option was wearing one of the jackets from whatever band I was playing with. Either way, not much thought went into my apparel.
The playing also didn’t take much thought. I would open the book of music (charts), numbered from 1 to whatever, and get up 3 or 4 songs which someone would count off, and play that way for usually 3 or 4 hours. Now this involves being able to read music well and sight read even better. Any player walks into a gig not knowing what exactly what he will play, only that it needs to be played well. Keys, meters, solos, small ensembles (dixieland), etc. are all part of the experience. There is a bit of excitement and a bit of risk involved whenever you open the book of music. A little like contemplating Pandora’s box. You have to be ready for anything.
As enjoyable as this was, there were hazards to the situations I was in. Mainly booze and drugs. A lot of very good musicians fell by the wayside because of these hazards. They are ubiquitous and, sometimes, your participation is almost expected. Peer pressure is a very strong influence. Thank goodness that my interest was not in these impediments, but in the music itself. It saved me. Also watching others under the influence play with a lesser quality under the influence when they felt that they were playing better than ever was a deterrent. Such is the seduction of substances that play games with your mind.
Nights in June in the midwest were usually mild, warm, slightly humid, but usually pleasant. Inside was not always comfortable, especially when there was no air conditioning. Outside, however, could be cooler and breezier, but with the wind to contend with. Never play in a group outside without clothespins to hold your music! (This was in a time when there were clothespins practically everywhere). The wind can be devastating when you are trying to read music at night with a dim music stand light and pages that are blowing up & down. Some very creative sounds can emerge from the band at that time.
The smell of the outside is also something I remember. The combined essence of flowers, plants and trees can be exhilarating when you are inhaling deeply in order to sustain long phrases. (Sometimes you take in air through your mouth when playing, and sometimes through your nose). This is a personal choice and usually determined by the situation, but circular breathing is always through the nose. This makes it possible to sustain notes indefinitely, and comes in very handy when playing long phrases in music by Wagner or Sibelius. (It involves breathing in quickly through your nose while forcing air from your cheeks to sustain the tone). It takes some practice to be able to use it.
One more memory of playing outside on those June Nights is the incessant sound of insects. This sound combines with everything else that happens: music, conversation, or just the silence that would take over if there were no other sound. This is memorable to me because of the tinnitus that I carry with me. Neverending, and just nestled there with my memories.