LOCAL ANGLES: MUSIC PERFECT INSULATION FROM THE MUNDANE

Bob Rosenquist couldn't have known he was hunkering down to reveal the simplicity and palpable texture of his soul when he explained why wood insulation works better than concrete.

He thought he was merely talking about the way he constructed his cabin in Hidden Valley, which is just outside of Jackson. What he was really doing, however, was showing just how much in love he is with his life and the people who share his experiences.

"I built every bit of this cabin," said the 71-year-old retired industrial-arts high-school teacher. He beats a soft path to this rustic retreat when he's not making big-band music in Cape Girardeau, Jackson or Scott City. The Hidden Valley haven is also his last stop before embarking on treks through Louisiana, Oklahoma or Texas.

Obscure towns that glow from within through rich character and quaint history, places like Turkey, Texas, Morgan City, La., or Pawhuska, Okla., welcome Rosenquist and the Texas Travelers as if they all shared the same blood. No marquees or invitations are necessary. Just word of mouth.

Rosenquist, the leader of a group of 70-year-old musicians, guides a caravan of RVs into camps too small to provide enough hookups but too big of heart to turn anybody away.

They make do because it's all for the right to listen to and play the sweet Texas swing. It emanates from Rosenquist's well-traveled trumpet like sublime nectar from flowers.

There is a lyrical quality to Rosenquist's voice when he announces how proud he is of this modest structure. To hear a 71-year-old man talk about such simple discoveries with the pure awe and inspiration of a child is to play hooky from work tethered to drudgery.

"I guess I can't really call it a cabin, since it's only 1,800 square feet," confided Rosenquist, whose permanent home is Scott City. "I've got an all-weather wood foundation system. There's no concrete in these walls. It's all wood, very energy-efficient. We'll go on one of our trips to Texas or Louisiana, come back a few weeks later and the flowers will be as healthy and bright as the day we left," he beamed. "Regardless of what has happened weather-wise outside of the building, my wife Betty and I will still have our flowers intact."

He began talking about R factors and how much resistance the wood puts up to extreme heat or cold. I was trying hard to listen to understand something about the mystery Rosenquist built in the country. What I heard instead were the same notes that likely drew him into music as a child growing up in Chaffee.

"I got started playing music when I found a spot in Oscar T. Honey's 140th Infantry band in Chaffee," said Rosenquist. "I was only 13 years old when I played for the National Guard band. Then they left for the service in 1940 and I had to find another outlet to play my trumpet."

He played in clubs like the El Patio in Cairo, Ill., and the Purple Crackle in East Cape Girardeau. The success of those gigs led to a steady stream of engagements for 30 more years. Then one day Rosenquist decided he had enough late-night dates and put his trumpet down. He wouldn't pick it up again for 13 years.

"You just get to the point where you think you need to be with your family more than the jam sessions, the late-night outings with crowds you don't know," he said. Then something happened to lure him back.

"It was in 1986 that I decided to play it again," he recalled. "I'm not sure exactly what it was. Maybe the realization that the kids were all grown or something. Anyway I started playing with the Golden Slippers, a band in Cape Girardeau, and pretty soon I was playing seniors dances, weddings, you name it. It wasn't easy making my way back, though. In fact it took two and a half years for me to develop lip and wind to hit the high C with my trumpet."

Before long he was managing the band and not much later Rosenquist formed his own band. When he was invited to play with a Texas swing band called the Texas Travelers, the Scott City resident found an outlet that would lead to travel and countless jam sessions with strangers turned friends for life.

"We get a real deal on these RV parks," said Rosenquist. "They give us a discount and a hall to practice and play in and we make a few bucks for our trouble. As long as I don't have to read music, I'm happy playing with just about any band," he said. "I just love to blow it all off the top of my head."

What perfect insulation from the mundane.

"I was invited to play with a group of university music teachers who formed a band called Waterstreet Six," said Rosenquist. "Imagine an old guy like me, with no formal music training, being invited up on the same stage by these guys with doctorate degrees."

I bet the room temperature was just right. Perfect, in fact. Just the place for Bob Rosenquist's favorite flowers, a few high C notes and maybe some interesting scenery before the next RV camp.

"This wouldn't be nearly as much fun if I had to make an honest living at it," he quipped.