I play (when I play -- dental work has really done for me in the past few years) whatever comes into my mind and is to hand. Alone, usually, in my office in the basement. When I get my embouchre back and solidly in place I'll blow some stuff I make up as I go. I've never been good enough for even Second Chair, so I have fun instead.

I laid off from about 1965 to 1993. Completely. Had the horn and never picked it up. Then I took a notion to recover what I could, and ended up playing in my High School Band's 50th Anniversary Concert in 1995 along with others I played with Way Back When. We had a great time, renewed old friendships, caught up on each other's doings.

Here's an odd thing. When I picked up the horn and was playing, I knew the fingerings! I knew the fingerings for notes I rarely, if ever, played -- notes like G flat -- and I could play them, although I might be using an alternate fingering instead of the prefered one. Of course, I didn't and don't care.

All I can think is that the mind processes information even when, or perhaps especially, when you're not using it or likely to do so in the immediate future.