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Playboy
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December 1964
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Waldo Grebb And His Electric Baton
eyes front, back arched, knees
snapping, the ted williams of
the twirling corps began his
countdown toward the launching
of his spinning silver bird
memoir By JEAN SHEPHERD
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WHEN THE BITTER WINDS of winter howl out of the frozen north, making the ice-coated telephone wires creak and sigh like suffering live things, many an ex-B-flat-sousaphone player feels that old fa-miliar dull ache in his muscle-bound left shoulder - a pain never quite lost as the years spin on. Ancient numbnesses of the lips permanently implanted by frozen German silver mouthpieces of the past. There is an instinctive hunching forward into the wind, tacking obliquely to keep that giant burnished Conn bell heading always into the waves. A singu¬lar man carrying unsharable wounds and memories to his grave, the butt of low. ribald humor, of gaucheries beyond de¬scription, unapplauded by music lovers, the sousaphone player is among the loneliest of men. His dedication is al¬most monklike in its fanaticism and solitude...
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copyright © 1964 Playboy Magazine
This story was reprinted under the new title "Wilbur Duckworth and His Magic Baton" in the book "In God We Trust - All Others Pay Cash"
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Made in USA
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