I knew Schlegel (as we called him back in the day!) back in 1976, when I was visiting my brother, Eugene, in Manhattan. Schlegel lived in the basement apartment one building over.
Often after a hard day of practicing, we would converge on Schlegel's apartment to toss back a few beers. Once we were good and buzzed, we could often whine Schlegel into doing his hunting horn routine.
He had this old LP - Lord only knows where he got it! - of 101 Hunting horns, all blasting at the top of their lungs. Schlegel would duck into the other room, start the record, then bust out into our room, hunting horn in hand, where he would mime along with the record.
To this day, whenever I need a chuckle, I conjure up that image, and suddenly all is not as dark as it once seemed.
Thanks, Schlegel, for one of the fondest memories of my 53 years!