So playing the trombone wasn't getting me in enough trouble? |
Lilith 🎄 Christmas Cheer runs a nifty forum "Question of the Day!" , and today question sort of jived with a blog post I have been thinking of doing. The Question Today: "What are some things that you wished people knew about you?" My question is where to start? Let's go all the way back to "I'm Only the Trombone Player", which happened in 4th grade when I was nine years old. We were lucky enough to have a great music program, with wonderful teachers. We were allowed to choose our weapons of choice. Did I choose something cool like drums or sax or trumpet? Nope, I chose trombone, an instrument whose popularity, even then, was fading. I never practiced as much as I should have, sports like Little League and Soccer got in the way, but I stuck with it, my parents bought me a horn and I kind of felt obligated not to quit. Along comes Junior High/Middle School and I'm still playing the trombone. But, now scholastic sports enters the picture. I was always a little guy, speedy for my size. Think of me as a little roadster (the car thing), quick and maneuverable, way too small for American Football, but well suited for Soccer (the rest of the World's Football). Long story short, I had a great time playing Soccer, I loved my coach, and when he said a great way to stay in shape for soccer would be to join his wrestling squad I signed up. Turns out I was perfect for that also. Most teams didn't have a wrestler as small as me. So my matches were an automatic win for the team. The drawback was that to practice, I always had to wrestle above my weight. Disaster struck at a practice. While wrestling someone heavier than me and in a position where he was in control and on top of me, I tried to muscle my way out of the ride. The result was the tearing of most of the ligaments in my right foot. No More Little Roadster and no phys ed for the rest of the year. So there I was in study hall instead of the gym when Mr. Carraras, my band teacher came along; "What are you doing in study hall?" He asked. "I can't go to gym for the rest of the year because I hurt— "Well, this is a waste of time. Come with me." He walked up to the front table, where the study hall proctor sat. Pointing at me. "He'll be in the band room from now on." The study hall teacher passed him a clipboard, Mr. C signed off on something, and I was trapped in the band room for life. My foot never healed well enough to play sports again, still have occasional pain and a bit of a limp at times. But, I found a new home. And that's how I became "Only the Trombone Player" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Playing the trombone provided many great experiences. I played, starting way back in fourth grade at five worlds fairs, marched at Disney World, and played at a pro football (American), and started playing professionally, all before I graduated from public school. In my Junior year of High School, I was told to grow a mustache to look older so that I would be able to play in bars I wasn't old enough to drink in. During that High School period, I was also officially labeled as a Student Dissident. There was a problem with budget cuts and teacher reassignments. The music students didn't like the cuts, organized and led protests. Somebody who shall remain nameless led a sit-in at the District Administration Building, which forced a meeting with the school board. We won—and the Grumpy Leprechaun was born. And, it's still in my permanent record. I have been lucky to have played in almost every musical genre and setting. I have played wedding bands (first professional gigs), Big Bands/Jazz Ensemble, Symphony Orchestras, Opera Orchestras (boring for a trombonist), toured with a Country Western Band, Semi-Pro Off-Broadway Productions. I played on two different cruise ships (really boring). I was fired by Bobby Rydell (the whole horn section, we looked too young), but Karma bit Mr. Rydell when he was forced to hire the same horn section a year later to cover for his horns at a country fair. I have been privileged to have taught some wonderful students, many of whom have gone on to become fine musicians and teachers themselves. Some entered Military service units, such as the Air Force's Airmen of Note, among others. Others are teaching in various parts of the United States and one even taught as far away as Singapore. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I mentioned the Grumpy Leprechaun up there. He the guy that shows up when I have to be an administrator. He has to say no a lot more often than he'd like to; "I'd like to buy a new keyboard for the Jazz Ensemble." "Do you have any money left in your budget code?" Grumpy asked. "No, but I was hoping—" "Then you already know the answer. Right?" Teacher walks away dejectedly. Then Pubby shows up; "Ya know boss they really could use a new key— "He spent all of his money already, go away Silly Rabbit." "Yeah, but the old one starting to sound like— "Watch it Rabbit, you know how I feel about bad language in the Music Wing." Not to be deterred Pubby continues. "Well, couldn't the keyboard be used somewhere else too, maybe share the cost?" And along comes Anon-Y-Monkey; "So, if my calculations are right, and we take a little bit from the band, a bit from the choir, and a touch from Graduation, we're only about $250 short, we can swing— "Wait, what are you saying?" I ask getting alarmed. It's only $250 bananas." Wiggling his eyebrows. "We can swing that can't we?" Lil' Lime Squeeze and A Guavé Tortuga, the two musicians of the group, nod at me from the corner of the room; "Ya Mon." A cloud of fragrant herbal smoke surrounds Lil' Lime Squeeze's head. "We can't have the kiddies playin' on inferior instruments now." I give up and give in, they beat me again. Oh! By The Way; They prefer to be called facets of my personality, not figments of my imagination. |