truly talentless and too late
the more i ponder the skills and hobbies that could have been, the more intimately aware i become of my painfully uninteresting self. yesterday i was looking through my friend kim's childhood scrapbook and she had pictures of herself doing all kinds of activities and exhibiting numerous talents. i lacked the staying power to have acquired such a scrapbook. band, girl scouts (okay, admittedly, i am not really that sad to have never been a girl scout. but i do love the cookies), big dresses and crowns and pompoms... none of this was my world. how boring. i did try to be in band once. i was in 5th g
rade, i was afraid of my teacher and band lessons seemed like a good way to get out of class for a while. my mom played flute when she was young, so i chose the flute. there were plenty of problems going in...i didn't have any real understanding of music or musical concepts. melody, harmony, pitch, tone... to this day i honestly cannot define even one of those terms. there is also a very good chance that i am tone deaf. and i could never get over the idea that my breath was trapped inside my flute and i could never REALLY clean it entirely. this serves as a good segue into the most problematic factor in the flute fiasco. when i would go to lessons, there were at least three of us playing together at a time. three chairs, side by side by side. unless one was on the far left of the threesome, which, try as i might, i never seemed to be able to do, one was guaranteed to have someone else's flute tip in one's face for the entire 30 or 45 minutes. i took issue with this. i was trying to learn what "notes" are and how to make them happen from this long silver tube with buttons, but all i could really think about was how much i wanted to throw up because i could feel the humid air coming from the end of the flute to my left. that meant someone's breath was RIGHT THERE blowing in my face. the issue compounded because of the fact that in order to breathe when fluting, one must take a quick, gasping-like breath through the mouth. this meant that the foreign breath molecules that were in front of my face, lingering, were also being quickly and forcefully thrust into my own lungs, THROUGH MY MOUTH!!! by the end of flute lessons, i would swear that i could taste the breath of the person next to me. AND flute lessons were after lunch, so there were food odors and probably particles being absorbed into my own body and there was nothing i could do to stop it. breath anxiety is truly my only memory of band. i had to quit. i didn't even make it to the first concert. mostly because i hadn't learned the music, but i pretended to be sick. i got to quit the day after i skipped the first concert. i think my parents acted disappointed, but i know my father well and i am sure that he was much happier to practice basketball in the driveway with me than to listen to me practice the flute while he tried to watch smokey and the bandit or wheel of fortune.
rade, i was afraid of my teacher and band lessons seemed like a good way to get out of class for a while. my mom played flute when she was young, so i chose the flute. there were plenty of problems going in...i didn't have any real understanding of music or musical concepts. melody, harmony, pitch, tone... to this day i honestly cannot define even one of those terms. there is also a very good chance that i am tone deaf. and i could never get over the idea that my breath was trapped inside my flute and i could never REALLY clean it entirely. this serves as a good segue into the most problematic factor in the flute fiasco. when i would go to lessons, there were at least three of us playing together at a time. three chairs, side by side by side. unless one was on the far left of the threesome, which, try as i might, i never seemed to be able to do, one was guaranteed to have someone else's flute tip in one's face for the entire 30 or 45 minutes. i took issue with this. i was trying to learn what "notes" are and how to make them happen from this long silver tube with buttons, but all i could really think about was how much i wanted to throw up because i could feel the humid air coming from the end of the flute to my left. that meant someone's breath was RIGHT THERE blowing in my face. the issue compounded because of the fact that in order to breathe when fluting, one must take a quick, gasping-like breath through the mouth. this meant that the foreign breath molecules that were in front of my face, lingering, were also being quickly and forcefully thrust into my own lungs, THROUGH MY MOUTH!!! by the end of flute lessons, i would swear that i could taste the breath of the person next to me. AND flute lessons were after lunch, so there were food odors and probably particles being absorbed into my own body and there was nothing i could do to stop it. breath anxiety is truly my only memory of band. i had to quit. i didn't even make it to the first concert. mostly because i hadn't learned the music, but i pretended to be sick. i got to quit the day after i skipped the first concert. i think my parents acted disappointed, but i know my father well and i am sure that he was much happier to practice basketball in the driveway with me than to listen to me practice the flute while he tried to watch smokey and the bandit or wheel of fortune.
posted by shelly at 1/28/2006 01:05:00 PM
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