Practicing in the music building's double bass room was an especially comforting aspect of my freshman year in college. College comes with its share of adjustments, but I always thought, "I've been playing the bass since 1983, and I know what I'm doing. Even when other facets of college seem tentative or uncertain to me, I know I can spend time in this room, practicing pieces that the orchestra will play for the next concert, playing exercises for the next bass lesson, or going back to pieces I've played in previous years."
Not every piece of ground on which you stand in college is solid--but, at that time, that one was. Other bassists in the orchestra apparently had the same routine. When I'd call ahead to see if the bass room was in use, I always liked it when another bassist would answer the phone, "Good evening. Bass room," or "Greetings from the bass room." Even when it meant I had to postpone my practice time until a later time or a different day, I liked knowing that the other bassists also saw the room for the oasis that it was.
