One day a group of three such musicians [itinerant musicians] came to Vendrell; they called themselves Los Tres Bemoles, or The Three Flats. I made my way to the front of the crowd that had gathered in the plaza to hear them, and I crouched there on the cobblestones completely enthralled, enchanted by the appearance of the players – they were dressed as clowns – and I listened spellbound to every note the played. I was especially fascinated by their instruments. They had mandolins, bells, guitars, and even instruments made out of kitchen utensils like teapots, cups and glasses – I think these instruments must surely have been the forerunners of some of the curious contraptions that are played in jazz orchestras today. One man played on a broom handle that was strung something like a cello – though I had never seen or even heard of a cello at that time. For some reason – possibly I had some sort of prescience!- that broom-handle instrument fascinated me most of all. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It sounded wonderful to me. When I went home, I told my father breathlessly about it. He laughed, but I talked so passionately about it that he said, “All right, Pablo, I’ll make you an instrument like it.” << less