When it is 4:00 AM and you can’t get back to sleep, what do you do?
As I lay in bed, thoughts of the past day, political debates, and discomfort from the last piece of pizza run through my head until I had to do something a little more productive and now I’m at the computer again.
When I started thinking of this post this morning, my first thought was, will my wife truly understand the significance of this post. Will she grasp the concept of the comparison of memories of old trumpets, cornets, flugel horns, trombones, slide trumpets and the similarities of memories of former girlfriends? I do hope so.
My First Girlfriend and My First Cornet
Memories of my first girlfriend:
I distinctly remember my first heart throb. Her name was Patty Wind, or Patty Winn, I’m not that sure of her name for both she and I were about six years old.
Equally important at the time was my first REAL cornet which I remember much more clearly for it was a Rose Gold, third valve compensated trigged, off set second valve, in a reddish brown, oval shaped case. Even today I can remember the feel, weight and balance of that great instrument. The pressure required to pull that third slide ring is still felt in my 70+ fingers today. The times we spent together (the cornet) are as fresh in my mind as if they were 60 years ago.
Memories of my first cornet:
• Endless hours playing along with every trumpet recording (78RPM) I could find
• Performing in a trumpet trio two hours after I had broken my arm in Jr. High
• Competing in solo, ensemble contest throughout Jr. High and collecting an absurd number of awards for playing countless (and very similar) cornet solos which all had names of flowers.
• The gradual increase of an odor which could be attributed to the growing age of the instrument and the fact that I had worn the beautiful rose gold finish off the brass.
• I remember every nick in that Olds mouthpiece and the feel of it on my lips (the cornet).
• Those were great memories.
My First Real Girlfriend and my First Real Trumpet
Memories of my first real girlfriend:
Every day I would walk my female companion home from school and truly enjoyed those awkward moments when my voice would jump an octave as easily as Maynard playing MacArthur Park. Her name was Cheryl. That was in 7th grade, I think.
Memories of my first real trumpet:
Now fast forward (that’s a term seldom used by the current digital generation) to graduate school.
• My first real trumpet was a Christmas present to me from my wife and I still see it under our small Christmas tree in our mobile home in Rochelle, Illinois.
• Black, Gladstone case, with the optional simulated leather case cover.
• Fresh, black lining and the most brilliant silver finish ever placed on highly polished brass.
• One single mouthpiece (that was before I became one of the many mouthpiece hoarders well known around trumpet circles) rested in its proper hole in the upper left corner of the case.
• My brand new Vacchiano straight mute rested comfortably in the case next to my Clarke Technical Studies book.
• The number of concerts and years of practicing on that instrument are a blur for that instrument helped me to make a comfortable living, enjoy great performances and provide for my family.
• It was a heart breaking experience when I realized that I was going to outlive that horn. Gradulally the wear and tear of polka bands, symphony orchestras, parades and shows began to show wrinkles on its surface. Similar to cancer in a body, my musical friend began to fail and had to be replaced.
My Last Girlfriend and My Final Trumpet
Memories of my last girlfriend:
My wonderful wife of 48 years is named Karen (see photo above) and I can tell you more about her than all the information available on Wikipedia. To list but one single area that she has helped and influenced me in our marriage would be impossible to notate and for that alone I thank her.
Memories of my last trumpet:
I am asked frequently “What kind of horn do you play”? Sometimes I have to look on the bell to remember. Is it old age? No, it’s the fact that horns are replaceable, a lifelong companions and friends are what really matter.
