Kerry Willingham is a reedmaker. He manufactures the little straw-shaped part of the instrument that a musician puts their mouth on and blows through to produce a pleasing sound. Made of two pieces of bamboo cane, a tiny metal tube and string fashioned to fit into the embouchure or mouthpiece of the instrument, it's the one part of the instrument that wears out every three weeks. The reed can become useless in seconds, however, if there is a change in temperature, altitude or humidity.

Good oboists - professional and amateur alike - are constantly fiddling with their reeds backstage before a performance, and during rehearsals or classes. The reeds are that temperamental.

The 52-year-old South Texas native has lived in the Hillsmere Shores community for 23 years, moving there shortly after he landed a gig in 1984 with the U.S. Army Band in D.C. He retired in 2005.

His wife, Donna, is a violinist in the Marine Band and in the Marine String Orchestra. They have two children, Karl, 18, a cellist who attends Anne Arundel Community College; and Liesl, 14, who plays guitar and violin and is home-schooled.

Mr. Willingham currently teaches at Anne Arundel Community College, gives private lessons and freelances with the Maryland Philharmonic. He plays the oboe, English Horn and Baroque Oboe.

As an oboist, making his own reeds was a necessity if he wanted to perform at the top of his game. Now, Mr. Willingham continues making reeds to fill a need for musicians who don't have the time - or the skill - to carve and wrap their own.

"I enjoyed playing in the Army Field Band," he said with a wide grin. "They hire just wonderful people. We traveled all over the world. We played at the D-Day celebrations and Battle of the Bulge commemorations in 1994. I saw world leaders up close ... It was inspiring to go all the places we got to go."

He added that he made new reeds every day, especially when he was doing solo work.

"It's tough huffing and puffing on a worn or bad reed. I'd make blanks and take them with me to make before a performance."

He doesn't have to toot his own horn though. Musicians find Mr. Willingham and his reeds by satisfied word of mouth and through his Web site, www.reedmaker.com.

"I pay 'per click' to be near the top on Google," he said. He also uses the best materials and reed-making instruments available.

In his small space, he has a gauger that set him back $1,000. It's a specialized planer complete with dials and measuring tools to plane the reeds to 0.6 millimeters thick. He purchases the bamboo reeds - the size of a ballpoint pen - from a craftsman in Paris.

As part of the process, he utilizes a German shaper machine, followed by a reed-wrapping machine with a sewing-machine engine. It's operated by gingerly stepping on a foot pedal. He goes high-tech with his chromatic tuner: Laidman and Katsura pitch recognition software for his MacIntosh.

"It replaced the old tuning fork. I used to bang the fork against my head to get the right tone," he grinned.

His reeds cost from $12.50 for a student up to $21 each for a professional. Musicians usually purchase several at once. "It takes 50 minutes to do each reed," he noted. "I don't make a lot of money, but I save money by staying at home and not commuting."

One professional concert oboist told Mr. Willingham that he spent the entire summer of 2007 ordering reeds from various suppliers.

The reed-maker observed some reed manufacturers crank out thousands of reeds each month or use synthetic materials. "You can't get a great sound out of a mediocre reed," he commented.

So who uses his reeds?

"Professional players make their own reeds, but not all of them make them well," Mr. Willingham said. "Some buy mine as supplements and keep them in the back of the case. If they need one, they use it. The average, good, skilled amateur player - people who play for the love of the music - and high school students don't make reeds."

Playing oboe tickles the lips - a buzzing sensation - but he's used to it.

He became a musician partially because his parents loved music. "Even in Sabinal, a small Texas town of 1,500 people, I enjoyed 'Rite of Spring' by Starvinsky. It had an oboe in it, as does 'Peter and the Wolf.' I began playing in the high school band."

He attended Indiana University in Bloomington, Ind., where he met his wife and received his Bachelors degree. Mr. Willingham was never attracted to oboists. "It's hard to date competition," he said.

Afterwards, he earned a Masters of Ministry degree in church music from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Ft. Worth, Texas. While working on his PhD at Washington University, he was a music instructor at Missouri Baptist University in St. Louis. The next stop was the Army - a coveted gig.

"I'm spoiled rotten because there's such fabulous retired and active military musicians in this area," he said, pulling out his oboe.