Play that funky music? Well, yeah! Let me explain, yesterday you read about a fond childhood memory when I went to a new elementary school in the 5th. With the new school came many changes. One such change was exposure to musical instruments. The school had a band or at least a band class. We were too few to be a marching band.
The new inductees to the new school had the chance to experience playing a band instrument. My parents or more so my mother thought it was a good idea for me to expand my horizon. I didn’t know anything about music. I was equally clueless about what instrument I wanted to play.
Mr. A was the band instructor. He displayed the polished horns and woodwind instruments for the class. My eye caught the glimmer of a shiny horn, a trumpet! To this day, I’m not sure why it appealed to me. Nonetheless, that’s where my interest lied. When it was my turn, I asked if I could try the trumpet. Surprisingly it was heavier than I thought. The band instructor helped with it. I puckered up and blew into the tiny cup. The sound was like a balloon deflating. I tried again, blowing harder than ever yielding the same disturbing noise and getting extremely dizzy. This instrument wasn’t for me. Let’s face it, I just wasn’t full of hot air. I guess I wouldn’t have made a good politician, either.
Sensing my disappointment, the band instructor directed my attention to a shiny silver instrument in the woodwind family. He demonstrated how to place my lips on the mouthpiece and then handed it to me. This instrument I could hold closer to my body, but felt a little awkward as I stretched it out to play. I blew air across the opening as instructed. A soft tone floated gracefully out of it. I made music! Okay, maybe not exactly, but I did produce a sound of sorts and I instantly fell in love with my flute. I name her Tooty.
Tooty and I were companions from grade 5 through grade 9. I regret not having played my flute through high school to this day. It’s true; you always have regrets about the things you do not do. I sold Tooty the year I got married to a gal who played in the high school band. It was a tough decision. I wish I had not jumped so easily to selling her. Another regret, my friends. To this day, the gal still has Tooty. I hope her children had the privilege of enjoying Tooty like I once did as a girl. I wish I could still play that funky music again.
