I hauled the flute case upstairs and opened it. My flute is dull and needs a good polish. It still has the big dent on the mouthpiece from the day I dropped it and it hit the base of my stand in the junior high band room.
I put the pieces together and began to play the chromatic scale. I couldn't quite get out the lowest note (C), and then I got as high as the high F, but I couldn't quite make the F#. It became a whistle of air. Maybe I had my fingering wrong. I will have to check. Then I pulled out my prayer book/hymnal and flipped to a favorite hymn and PLAYED IT! If you asked me what the fingering was for different notes, I probably couldn't tell you, but my fingers remember.
I remember being encouraged by my folks to pick an instrument to play in band when I was in elementary school. My mother played the clarinet all through school and I believe my dad played the saxophone. I remember seeing a woman play the piccolo and decided I wanted to play the flute.
My parents took me shopping at the music stores in Lewiston/Clarkston. Band started in the 5th grade, so it must have been the summer before that.
Mr. Campbell was the band teacher. He already had grey hair when I met him. I think he was already a grandfather at that point. I took private lessons from him as well. I remember walking up his driveway and entering through the back door into his little music room. His backyard was shadey and it was always cooler back there. Did he have a dog?
I have always been naturally gifted at music. At first I took to the flute avidly, but after awhile I became a little less excited about it. Often I would not practice at all between lessons and I could just go in and play my assignments perfectly. I wonder if Mr. Campbell knew. I would practice sometimes, especially when my mom would nag me to do it.
5th grade band at McSorley School met in the gym up on the stage. I remember the theater lights being on, bright from above, while the rest of the gym was rather dark and the stage curtain was also dark. Mr. Campbell would sit on his stool and tap his baton on his stand (tap tap tap) to keep the beat. We sounded SO BAD! Reed instruments squeaking, brass instruments struggling or hitting wrong notes. I remember thinking we would never sound good. But we worked hard.
In 7th grade we went to Jenifer Jr. High. At Jenifer we got band uniforms. Those wool sweaters with the big red J. We wore white pants and shoes with the sweaters. I remember being in 7th grade and being intimidated by all the older kids who were decent musicians. I don't remember any drummers in grade school, so it was neat to have the drummers. It seems like the drums were played by the cool people, or playing drums made you cool, I'm not sure which.
We got to march in parades which was fun. The year before I was in 7th grade, some kids that went on a band trip acted inappropriately or got in trouble. Mr. Campbell had a policy that if any kids acted out on a band trip, the punishment was no band trip for 3 years. That was a bad policy I thought. Everyone was punished because of a few people and continued to be punished even after those kids left and were at LHS.
Finally when I was in 9th grade, my last year at Jenifer, we got to have a band trip. It was a lot of fun. My friend, Mary, had been on that trip, but we weren't best friends yet. I remember riding the bus, going to Canada, sleeping in sleeping bags on the floor of a gym somewhere, visiting Ainsworth Hot Springs. It was Ainsworth, wasn't it? The hot springs had these caves you could through. I remember a pretty, developing 7th grader had a white swimsuit and her areolas showed RIGHT THROUGH HER SUIT. I remember being horrified and fascinated at the same time. I couldn't stop looking! The girl didn't know I am sure. It was partly horror because I would be horrified if it was ME showing, but I think the fascination was also mild attraction. An early sign of my late lesbianism. I think I covered up my feelings with a bit of disgust. Like "How can she go around showing her nipples like that?" or some other thought. Funny how we use disgust or arrogance to hide our true selves, even from ourselves.
Well back to Jenifer Junior High band...
Anyone remember watching "The Music Man" every year in the dark of the band room? "Gary, Indiana, Gary, Indiana, Gary, Indiana..." I know kids screwed around during the movie. I actually watched it for the most part.
Another day the band room stunk because when the choir was practicing earlier, holding candles as they sang, someone's hair allegedly caught on fire. With the 80s hairstyles, held in place by GOBS of hairspray, you can bet that was probably a dangerous situation. Burnt hair STINKS!
And then came the CHAIR TESTS! Oh how I HATED chair tests. Chair tests determined where you got to sit in the band. The best player got to sit in the first chair and that was quite the honor.
To do a chair test you had to play your instrument ALL BY YOURSELF in front of EVERYONE! I got the worst butterflies, my heart would pound, my hands would get clammy and tremble. It is bad enough to be in 7th grade and to feel self-consious for the first time, but to add performing on top of the general anxiety of being 12? You have got to be kidding! I could have used some Ativan for chair tests. They were scary.
At the end of 7th grade, I realized a girl who played flute who was higher than me, didn't know how to play a phrase of music properly. I decided to challenge her. It seems like this was the last possible time to challenge someone, so it was my last chance. I thought I was assertive in asking her. I know I was shy and scared and I don't remember what I said. But when it came down to the day, she claimed she didn't realize I had challenged her. Like maybe I was vague and said, "I want to challenge you." instead of "I am challenging you." I'm not sure, but I didn't know how to do it properly, so I ended up not doing it right and missed out on that opportunity to move up. I was kind of bummed.
I eventually got to be first chair and held that place for a long time. In 9th grade, my last year in band, the girl who sat next to me challenged me for first chair on the last day you can challenge someone. Sound familiar? Her name was Beth and she was in the 8th grade. She knew I couldn't play a certain phrase of music in a song. I would always flub it up. No one else knew I couldn't play that phrase, but she could hear me mess up and it sucked feeling that vulnerable. It felt low that she would use my one flaw against me because I thought we were friends. It felt like a betrayal. If she got first chair on a chair test it wouldn't have felt so personal. It felt different from my little 7th grade attempt at a challenge because I didn't know that girl. But hey, if I would have been in Beth's place, I would have done the same thing. First chair had some prestige.
I practiced and I practiced and knew Beth would beat me, so I had a rebuttal planned to play. A rebuttal was a chance to win your place back if you lost the challenge. Beth beat me at the phrase like I knew she would. Then came the rebuttal. We both played it perfectly. I remember Mr. Campbell saying, "Beth had better tone," and he awarded her first chair. Oh, the bitterness I felt as I moved to take second chair. My face felt hot and the shame was intense and I felt slightly resentful. This had been MY plan in the 7th grade and it didn't work for me, so for someone else to have the same plan and SUCCEED felt unfair. I was not taking lessons from Mr. Campbell anymore at this point and I think Beth was, so it also felt like favoritism to me. But even worse was how everyone CHEERED when Beth got first chair. I remember thinking, so they are glad for her, so do they not even care about me, or worse are they glad that I was humiliated? It was weird. That was a bad day for me. I can still feel how I felt when I remember it.
Eventually I got over being second chair and moved on. I had already planned on taking choir at Lewiston High School instead of band at the time I lost first chair, so I think that helped with the disappointment. I held that first chair position for most of 8th and 9th grade so it was okay that another 8th grader had the honor. After that my flute sat around in its case, mostly unused. And it got loaned out for someone to use. It seems like I heard years back that Mr. Campbell had passed away, but I am not sure about that. And eventually my flute ended up in that box.
For years my flute sat untouched and my fingers did not touch it. It is funny how your body remembers stuff like how to play an instrument after 20+ years. Practice must actually rewire your brain because the abiltiy doesn't go away. I bet if I started practicing I could be back to where I was in the 9th grade in less than 3 months. It makes you wonder what other things you carry with you. Things you don't use anymore but can just pull out if you need to. Like riding a bike or speaking a language. You never forget how to do it. Your body remembers. How much of who we are is a sum of our experiences? That is an interesting thought.
Well thanks for taking a little trip down memory lane with me. I wish everyone had the experience of playing an instrument in a band. It was actually pretty fun. Though I wish now that I had played the saxophone. The saxophone is such a sexy instrument...
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