Enquiring minds want to know! 
One assumes so. BTW, the first time I saw that handle, I briefly misread it as “TubaDiver”, and I haven’t been able to shake the exceedingly strange image that conjured up ever since.
But of course she does! How could anyone so incredibly cool play any mere mortal instrument?
TubaDiva can indeed play the tuba, but she generally doesn’t care to.
Last time I saw her was in her huge converted studio/apartment, very late one night. She walked towards me, across the dark polished boards, treading gently, like a cat on bare feet. Her pale green silk dress flowed gracefully behind her as she greeted me.
She was taller than I expected, big-boned but surprisingly delicate. Her hair, brownish but fair, fell with a slight natural curl just below her shoulders. She seemed to be without any great concern for her appearance, but amazingly neat, clean and impeccable. Her eyes are large and liquid, and her skin is so clear and glowing, especially in the candlelight. The very picture of a healthy young woman in the prime of her life.
She was solemn as she approached me, but when she smiled it was amazing - I actually felt a welcome sense of blessing and calm. I relaxed considerably. I became aware there was a gentle fragrance in the room, and was trying to place it - lavender? bergamot? It was hard to pay attention to her words as I did so.
The famous tuba was leaning against a wall on the other side of the studio. It wasn’t exactly tarnished, but it hadn’t been polished in a while, I remember thinking. A computer was sending a blue glow out from a very far corner - The Computer, I thought excitedly. I could also see a bicycle and two or three large potted plants further into the room. A richly-coloured persian rug lay between two sofas, heaped with cushions, untidy and inviting.
I heard a man’s cough in the distance. So she wasn’t alone.
Then I became aware she was waiting for me to reply to some question she had asked. I stumbled over my words, then I felt acutely that it was time to go. As she moved towards the door with me, I tried to tell her of my admiration for her work. I think I got a bit confused, because she was smiling in a kindly way at what I was saying, her eyes more mischevious than her lips.
At the door she took my hand, and I was aware of how cool and soft her hands were, and yet how firm her grip was. She looked directly into my eyes and said “Thanks for your kind words. Keep posting, I like your stuff.”
Then I was gone. In the lift my heart was racing, and I started to giggle to myself. Does she say that to everyone, I couldn’t help wondering.
The street was deserted, and I walked back to my car on a small cloud. Three flights above me I heard a sash window open and a low mellifluous voice called
“Redboss…Redboss…”
“Yes?” I half-whispered, half shouted.
On the night breeze the words came to me but not too clearly
“No anchovee… next tiime… no anchovee…”
Cripes! When I put snippets of your post into Google it comes up empty! That means, perhaps, you actually wrote this yourself.
Nice one, Redboss. Envious.
Yes thanks, I do write my own posts.
I’m still dressing myself too, by the way and most days I manage to cut up most of my food myself.
[sub] young whippersnappers… Google, indeed…[/sub]
Redboss
Hey! I said I was envious.
Well, when I saw her, she had glorious curly red hair, just above her shoulders. I wish that MY hair was that color. It’s gorgeous. And she has the skin tone of a true redhead, too…and she tells me that she burns easily, as well. I might have boring brown hair, but I’ve only been sunburned ONCE in my entire life.
Yes, she actually plays the tuba, and usually participates in something called TubaChristmas each year. This year, she was also involved in a Monster Truck Rally, so you can see that she leads an interesting life.
She spoils her cats shamelessly.
Sam I do apologise. I should have said “old” whippersnapper.
hehehe.
[sub]seriously thanks and best wishes[/sub]
Sam I do apologise.
I should have said “old” whippersnapper. hehehehe.
[sub]seriously thanks and best wishes[/sub]
what’s “preview”? I hate it when I do that.
You’re not alone. I thought it was TubeDiver, which is what they called sewer workers where I grew up. But then some people have said my name sounded like a “lame” joke, rather than my real name, so I have my own name confusions to worry about.
Yes, she does play the tuba. And when she’s playing the tuba, she usually wins.
Next questions: is she really a diva?
from http://www.m-w.com :
So the answer is plainly “Yes!”
Now I’m blushing.
I want to correct an impression. I did not play tuba at the monster truck rally.
your humble TubaDiva
From what I understand, that’s about all she didn’t do, though. 
(As a gentleman of the old school, I ignore the previous post)
Yeah, she does. I’ve SEEN it.
TubaDiva was up in NYC for the 1999 TubaChristmas, and inveigled me into performing.
As she was tubaless (what, she was going to book an extra seat for it?), I offered her the use of my horn, but she refused, saying that I was to play it. She graciously introduced me to the cream of tubadom, including the great Harvey Phillips, professor emeritus of music at Indiana University, conductor of the first TubaChristmases in Rockefeller Center, and alumnus of dozens of brilliant orchestral jazz albums, including Gil Evans’s INTO THE HOT.
In addition to all this, she helped me prepare my horn for the ordeal on the ice. Like a schlump, I arrived with no visible means of support for the instrument, trusting in my manly muscles to hold up many, many pounds of freezing cold brass for an enormous amount of time. Tuba helped me see the error of my idea and jerryrigged an extremely clever array of netting which distributed the weight to various sections of my anatomy. AND she devised a way to attach a harp to the horn so that I wouldn’t need to grip my music in one icy paw whilst trying to play.
Does she play the tuba? After she admired my instrument, I offered her a whack at it. She played only three notes, but they were of such an ineffable clarity and beauty they still resonate in my head.
I respect that she maintained a musicianly reticence, as my horn is a CC Conn, about 60-70 years old, nifty nickel fittings, but lots of dings and dents. TubaDiva, being a purist and devotee of the contrabass, prefers a BBb instrument…I consider myself honored that she deigned to touch her lips to my mouthpiece at all.
We’ve had several conversations about the great bass horns; she has taught me about the Full Lady and the Half Lady of Sousaphones, the difference between French-made and German-made tubas, and what it’s like to handle one of those goofy little F tubas. Why Ray Draper was a putz, and where Bill Barber lives today. Why a recording bell isn’t worth as much as it seems it should be. Stuff like that.
Our humble TubaDiva…not only does she play the Queen of the brass instruments, she lives and breathes it.
Not being a gentleman of the old school, I can’t get all sorts of crazy pictures out of my head:
[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by Lynn Bodoni *
**
A monster truck rally, huh? My fear of her is now greatly diminished.
–Tim