Remarkable. I played piano but always had a secret desire to play the piccolo in the high school band. Similar reason. I was all a flutter for the trombone player. My dad played and I thought I was destined to wind up with a trombone player just like my revered father. Except for the getting rid of the liquid build up inside the brass Ew! I tried to get a peep out of a flute around that time. Not even a hint of anything resembling a musical sound. Thanks for the memory.
@A LeJenD' at 49 I wrote this for a contest and was limited on my word count. I want to say though, that from the 7th grade on I could also play the Trumpet (I was terrible, I didn't have the necessary range), and the Baritone, Tuba/Sousaphone. The valve fingerings for the notes on those instruments are about the same if I remember correctly. The reason I didn't switch though is that every where I went there were plenty of children playing those instruments, and very few playing the Horn. In the 11th grade, I taught myself how to play the Trombone for stage band. I had been playing French Horn in it since the 10th grade, but face it, French Horn isn't really a jazzy type of instrument. Plus, there was no sheet music for the Horn, so I had to read the Trombone part on the Bass Clef, and in my head move each note up one note, then add an octave. I found it easy after the first couple of days, but still, Horn is not a jazzy instrument. So I taught myself to play Trombone, which I also loved. I really enjoyed being asked to do an ad-lib solo too, and surprised the heck out of our band director when I did my first one.
I enjoyed reading this. My youngest daughter was also a French Horn player throughout her school career. She began playing in grade 6, as all students were encouraged to participate in something. She had absolutely no interest in sports, so options for extracurricular activities were limited. It pretty much left her a choice between choir and band. Shy and quiet, she chose band and after being tested on all instruments, she was assigned French Horn. She quickly excelled and by grade 7 was First Chair for the remainder of her time at school. She absolutely loved it and even participated in non-school related band appearances.
I guess I said all that to say this, thank you so much for bringing such proud and pleasant memories of my kiddo to the forefront of my thoughts. I hope you do once again pick up the Horn. The world needs more music.
So... you have adult kids by now... 35 plus... 4? 6?
So if this were 1988 I have no memories of that year (car accident).
Petra reminded me of her contest and I should enter 'just because'. So many ways I could approach this. You chose 'memories'. I have too many. Even my entry on "Juneteenth" "Juneteenth" was hard to write (because I wasn't focused and I was avoiding certain images that kept coming to mind). It rambles and I'm not happy with it.
Your response was easy to read and to-the-point. I should emulate your style.
One note for paragraph #2. It's "As" not "A". Spelling check won't catch that typo but a grammar check should.
I love reading your stories. They are fun, and I appreciate that you take the time to share them. Maybe you should "write a book" about your adventures?
Happy New Year! Blessings and best wishes for you and yours!
Time wounds all heels... I need a foot massage. Oh. the. pain. seriously it's gonna hurt. My friend Bryan can make me want to scream, but he's safely in Costa Rica. Thailand... I don't do massages but I should.
At sea. I was always a serious bloke so I bore the slings of juvenility growing up. I never really learned how to deal with it. Would've been nice if sum1 would have helped.
Young, dumb and afraid/unafraid comes to mind. I weep for the cannon-fodder in Ukraine.
I suspect that most working under these conditions are 1. mature (serious versus panksters) and 2. young. I'm too old and need naps. Oops... there she blows!
Thank you for writing more about your submarine experience. this is a good overview of how a nuclear reactor aboard a submarine works without giving away any classified information.
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Oops... there she blows!