Saturday, September 15, 2012

Making music in the house

The cacophony coming from my son’s bedroom sounds like a cross between a dying elephant and an old car horn, but we know he’s okay because that noise means he’s learning and progressing in band.

This past Tuesday, a whole bunch of parents escorted their sixth graders to the middle school’s common room in order to sign contracts that will hold us accountable to monthly payments making our children the proud renters by proxy of whatever musical instrument they fell in love with over the past couple of weeks.

My son picked the trombone.

At first, my husband, Chris, and I were worried about his selection because, aside from his skateboard, the boy has a less-than-stellar track record when it comes to sticking with new hobbies. Granted, band is a graded class which makes it slightly more influential when it comes to level of interest, but we have never once heard the child discuss a desire to ever touch or play a trombone.

Chris and I had pictured this active kid banging away on a snare drum or maybe just crashing some cymbals together like I did when I was in high school marching band. I would’ve done more in band, but I joined in the 10th grade and couldn’t read music, so I got stuck with the “easy” stuff because no one wanted to bother teaching me from scratch so late in the game.

Chris played the flute and the French horn. Our son tried the flute, but his bottom lip is “substantial” in size and, because he couldn’t seem to sufficiently flatten it out, it kept flopping into the hole. The reed instruments, like the saxophone, were also posing a problem when it came to sound quality.

He declared that the trombone fits both his lips perfectly and, since he has long arms, he can reach all the notes. In addition, it was his feeling that the low brass sound is manlier than the high-pitched tone of the flute and the trumpet.

My best friend, Damon, played trombone in band. I remember all the spit that he used to have to empty out of it. My son was sure to request an old washcloth for this unfortunate consequence of his new passion.

Damon was also talented on piano and could sit down and play Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” like it was the easiest song in the world. Who knows? Maybe the trombone will kick off a love affair with music for our offspring and we’ll get to see him perform a masterpiece on stage one day.

Part of being in middle school band is that the kids have to bring their instruments home to practice and the parents are supposed to be encouraging and supportive no matter what sound comes out of their horns.

In all seriousness, this boy is making some fairly decent noise with his trombone. I wish he wouldn’t suddenly blast it right when I was walking around the corner and scare the tar out of me, but he’s got some solid sounds happening which is more than I would’ve expected.

To all you other new band parents, I hope your children are as excited as my son is. I can only imagine what the trumpets are sounding like.

Kids, keep plugging away and don’t give up. You’ll be glad you did one day. I heard somewhere that children who learn to read music are smarter overall. A parent can certainly have her dreams.

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