I’d like to preface this story by mentioning that I was a pretty spacey kid. I was never particularly good at paying attention to anything, and my parents even have footage of 4 year old me in a dance recital, facing in a different direction than everyone else onstage. I rarely knew exactly where I was supposed to be going or doing, nor did I care, which is something that impacted me when I first began playing music.
I got my start playing the saxophone in 5th grade, when our elementary school’s advanced band did a demonstration for all of us in the multipurpose room. I knew immediately that I wanted to be a part of this group, and more importantly that the saxophone looked incredibly cool, so I excitedly told my parents that day that I wanted to play. My parents were always really supportive of whatever extracurricular activities I wanted to pursue, so they agreed to let me join the beginner band and rent me a saxophone from our local music shop. To someone who’d never held a musical instrument other than an electronic keyboard in their life, the saxophone was a thing of awesome power and beauty, and I spent the entire car ride home pushing down every button I could, and the rest of the day wondering why I couldn’t make any sounds come out of it. Eventually my grandfather told me I needed a reed, so once I solved that problem I happily squawked away at my newfound pride and joy. I’m sure my neighbors loved it just as much as I did.
Towards the end of the year I missed several band rehearsals; I don’t remember my exact reasons but I’m sure they seemed valid to me at the time. It only became problematic one day when we were all called in for an assembly, and I noticed everyone else in beginning band wasn’t there with the rest of my class. Weird. I followed along until we reached the auditorium, and then it hit me:
It was the concert.
I had no clue we were having the concert today, and here everyone was, onstage, without me.
Maybe if I’d been thinking a little more clearly, I would have quickly grabbed my instrument as the band was getting their things together, but 11 year olds are not known for their level headedness, so I sat with the rest Mrs. Thomas’s 5th grade class, completely mortified. This was supposed to be my moment- not only was saxophone playing something I loved, it was something I was good at. I knew the ENTIRE G major scale, and I knew how to play an F natural as well! I watched with horror and shame as everyone else played the theme from Top Gun, Linus and Lucy, and Titanic, knowing that I could rock all of this and was stuck helpless in the audience. It was easily one of the most embarrassing moments of my elementary school career, so I started crying by the time my mom picked me up from school. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her why, and it wasn’t until high school that I told her about this dark, dark day.
It’s been 12 years since then and thankfully I’ve come a long way. I’m still a little spacey, but the cool thing about being an adult is that you’re able to manage it more and not miss any concerts you’re supposed to perform at. Hope to see you all at our August 1st show at House of Blues! I’ll try to remember the date this time.
I got my start playing the saxophone in 5th grade, when our elementary school’s advanced band did a demonstration for all of us in the multipurpose room. I knew immediately that I wanted to be a part of this group, and more importantly that the saxophone looked incredibly cool, so I excitedly told my parents that day that I wanted to play. My parents were always really supportive of whatever extracurricular activities I wanted to pursue, so they agreed to let me join the beginner band and rent me a saxophone from our local music shop. To someone who’d never held a musical instrument other than an electronic keyboard in their life, the saxophone was a thing of awesome power and beauty, and I spent the entire car ride home pushing down every button I could, and the rest of the day wondering why I couldn’t make any sounds come out of it. Eventually my grandfather told me I needed a reed, so once I solved that problem I happily squawked away at my newfound pride and joy. I’m sure my neighbors loved it just as much as I did.
Towards the end of the year I missed several band rehearsals; I don’t remember my exact reasons but I’m sure they seemed valid to me at the time. It only became problematic one day when we were all called in for an assembly, and I noticed everyone else in beginning band wasn’t there with the rest of my class. Weird. I followed along until we reached the auditorium, and then it hit me:
It was the concert.
I had no clue we were having the concert today, and here everyone was, onstage, without me.
Maybe if I’d been thinking a little more clearly, I would have quickly grabbed my instrument as the band was getting their things together, but 11 year olds are not known for their level headedness, so I sat with the rest Mrs. Thomas’s 5th grade class, completely mortified. This was supposed to be my moment- not only was saxophone playing something I loved, it was something I was good at. I knew the ENTIRE G major scale, and I knew how to play an F natural as well! I watched with horror and shame as everyone else played the theme from Top Gun, Linus and Lucy, and Titanic, knowing that I could rock all of this and was stuck helpless in the audience. It was easily one of the most embarrassing moments of my elementary school career, so I started crying by the time my mom picked me up from school. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her why, and it wasn’t until high school that I told her about this dark, dark day.
It’s been 12 years since then and thankfully I’ve come a long way. I’m still a little spacey, but the cool thing about being an adult is that you’re able to manage it more and not miss any concerts you’re supposed to perform at. Hope to see you all at our August 1st show at House of Blues! I’ll try to remember the date this time.