[Dixielandjazz] Trombones: getting on/off board

Fri, 27 Sep 2002 01:54:01 EDT

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Listmates,

My story relates not to get getting on board with a trombone but rather 
getting off board and, in fact getting into the US.

The date: July 25, 1968. My new bride and I have arrived with the s.s. 
"Rotterdam" at Pier 40 in New York. We chose to make the trip from Holland to 
the U.S. by ship so that it could be at once our honeymoon, AND we had 16 
(count 'em) pieces of luggage, including a sewing machine and a trombone.

Immigration went smoothly. I had all the required paperwork, including the 
chest X-ray  (remember Ellis Island?) as well as the sworn statement that I 
had never been a member of a communist party and that my mother had never 
been arrested for engaging in prostitution. This is all true.

Next step: Customs. A typical New Yorker. Aloof, slightly overweight but 
friendly. Also keenly aware that his Union contract never said anything about 
having to inspect 16 pieces of luggage. So he focused on the trombone. "You 
play?. "Yessir". "Can you play "Marie""?. And then I may have made the 
biggest mistake of my life. I was vaguely familiar with the tune but had 
never actually played it. And I was not about to embarass myself during the 
first hour that I had said foot in the US. What I should have done, of 
course, is to ask him to whistle a few bars and give it a try. Who knows, it 
might have made the papers with guest appearances the next evening at 
Condon's or Ryan's. We can dream, can't we?

Anyway, I negotiated for awhile with the Customs guy. He signed off on all 
our luggage without opening a single piece and wished us "Good Luck". Ah, 
America.

Regards,

Rob van der Plas
Scottsdale, AZ 

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<HTML>Listmates, 
 
My story relates not to get getting on board with a trombone but rather getting off board and, in fact getting into the US. 
 
The date: July 25, 1968. My new bride and I have arrived with the s.s. "Rotterdam" at Pier 40 in New York. We chose to make the trip from Holland to the U.S. by ship so that it could be at once our honeymoon, AND we had 16 (count 'em) pieces of luggage, including a sewing machine and a trombone. 
 
Immigration went smoothly. I had all the required paperwork, including the chest X-ray&nbsp; (remember Ellis Island?) as well as the sworn statement that I had never been a member of a communist party and that my mother had never been arrested for engaging in prostitution. This is all true. 
 
Next step: Customs. A typical New Yorker. Aloof, slightly overweight but friendly. Also keenly aware that his Union contract never said anything about having to inspect 16 pieces of luggage. So he focused on the trombone. "You play?. "Yessir". "Can you play "Marie""?. And then I may have made the biggest mistake of my life. I was vaguely familiar with the tune but had never actually played it. And I was not about to embarass myself during the first hour that I had said foot in the US. What I should have done, of course, is to ask him to whistle a few bars and give it a try. Who knows, it might have made the papers with guest appearances the next evening at Condon's or Ryan's. We can dream, can't we? 
 
Anyway, I negotiated for awhile with the Customs guy. He signed off on all our luggage without opening a single piece and wished us "Good Luck". Ah, America. 
 
Regards, 
 
Rob van der Plas 
Scottsdale, AZ </HTML>

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