I finally ordered it from Amazon a few days ago and I have already received a shipping confirmation. If it comes media mail it will take some time, but I trust Amazon. I paid about $23 USD including s/h.
After waiting all this time for the eBay seller aphrohead to do the right thing, I thought I would try again.
Looking forward to receiving it. I almost passed, but everyone seems to like it and the quotes above remind me of the way I look at history. I always wonder if the past is whispering around us, but we are too busy and too preoccupied to hear it.
I actually just had a piece published in our local paper and here is a part of it to show you what I mean.
The Prospect Drum Corps organized in 1949 by Dorothy Harlow and her husband Len was disbanded earlier this year and the familiar sound of fifes and drums and trumpets and the commands once called by countless majors and color guard captains are now echoes heard only by those of us who used to be members of the once dynamic combination drum corps.
.....
The Green in Prospect is now a quiet place on Friday nights and even Community School looks sleepy with windows like eyes half closed as there is now no one to watch marching or making music in the parking lot or on the newly mowed grass where the monument to Civil War Soldiers keeps constant vigil.
The piece is called FRIDAY NIGHT SILENCE. It is an indirect reference to a US TV show called FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS which is about American football played "under the lights" on Friday nights. My intention was to show not only that the 60 year old tradition of marching in the drum corps had come to an end but that part of the reason was that now young people go to sports events on Friday nights and have no time for marching and music.
But I often go into old houses or to sites that commemorate great upheaval or battle and try to listen for the echos of the voices of the past. I do believe that the past is whispering all around us. And I believe that on any given Friday Night, I could go to the Green in Prospect and hear, in the new silence, the voices of those who once marched, made music, and laughed and grew up together over the 60 years that the corps left its imprint on that piece of the town.