76 Trombones

The mind is forever mysterious, unfathomable, surprising. Today I woke up singing “76 Trombones” in my mind and had no idea why. I hadn’t recently seen the Music Man movie nor heard any reference to it. I was baffled as to where that impulse came from until I saw the date. Today is my sister’s Ginny’s birthday. And she is turning 76. Amazing!

 

And so siblings. She is my one and only and one I’m so grateful for. Unlike many folks I know, we are not on opposite sides of any political divide and in fact, are deeply connected in so many ways. We both continue to be practicing Zen Buddhists who studied under the same teacher. We both continue to pursue our art form—her modern dance, me music—and both of us have been teachers in that field. We had the grand pleasure of performing together many times, me playing my own composed music for her own choreographed dance. And one time, I played a composition of my father’s while she danced, with him in the audience. 

 

We both are lifelong readers and mostly vegetarians. We both have been married to the same person for some 50 plus years, she had three sons, me two daughters, she four grandchildren and three step-grandchildren, me two grandchildren. She is delighted to be an aunt to my daughters and me an uncle to her son. I’ve enjoyed playing music and golf with her husband and she going to lunches with my wife. I taught two of her sons at The San Francisco School before they moved to Sebastopol. Every year for a couple of decades, her family and mine joined with two others to go to the snow in the Sierras or West Point Inn in Marin every December and to Calistoga for Spring break. We also have enjoyed most every Thanksgiving together, as well as annual Christmas Caroling. And so on. 

 

In the past decade or so, Ginny and I have celebrated her birthday with a lunch at The Left Bank restaurant in Larkspur, a place we used to go with my parents when were still with us. I ride my bike from my house to the Ferry Building, take the Ferry to Larkspur and then bike to the restaurant. She orders the oysters, I order the eggplant sandwich and we pass a lovely time together, ending with the mandatory photo in front of the restaurants mural. 

 

I dig out an old photo of us with our cousin Grace when I’m perhaps 8 and Ginny’s 10. We’ve come a long way together!! Today she is at a Zen retreat, so our lunch will be postponed. But to celebrate our longevity together and our closeness, I would wish for those 76 trombones and 110 cornets and thousands of reeds, those thundering tympani and big bassoons and 50 mounted cannons and yet more! But a quiet lunch in a couple of weeks would suffice as well. Happy birthday, Ginny!