I do like the sound of a bugle. Probably not the instrument itself, it’s trying too hard to differentiate itself from the likes of the infinitely more humbly meek trumpet. I’m more a fan of the word itself. Roll it around your mouth for a little while and see how many puzzled looks you can attract. If you’re really gunning for a touch of serious whimsy then insert an extra g either before the l or after the u and see how it completely alters the auditory experience.
Oh the fun you can have when you dick about with language rather than paying attention to anything else. Fine, maybe the bugle you’re suddenly so interested in sounding is strictly metaphorical. After all, if you were interested in sounding a physical bugle I can’t help but feel that this wouldn’t be precisely your first port of call. You might, for a random instance, feel that retaining the services of a music teacher could be a way to go.
So really, when you think about it (you know, as I pretty obviously haven’t), sounding a bugle is all about standing up and making some noise. It may well be preferable to be doing this sort of thing for a purpose, in the service of a cause you believe in, it could add a whole new level of fervour to your sound inducing endeavour. Then again, it’s fun to make a stink about nothing in particular just ’cause.
As you make your preparations to sound the bugle, pay attention to those around you. If you sound a bugle, even a not entirely literal one, and nobody’s about to hear it then did you actually sound it? Well, obviously you did, you were there to hear it but it was such a waste of effort you definitely ought to run away and listen to the Bugle podcast instead. It’s genuinely excellent.
Sound the bugle – Bryan Adams