Essays of a Common Man

Last Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition - Back to Corn Cob Island

(In 2007 I came across a once in a lifetime opportunity for a trombone player such as myself; auditioning for the Houston Symphony Orchestra.  During my preparation I wrote six pieces about my thoughts at the time.  This is the sixth and final one.)


I figured this audition for the HSO was the last chance I would get to stand on a world class stage in front of the finest professional musicians around and show the world how well I can play.  But life gave me another boot in the backside right at the most inopportune time.  I do feel I did the best possible according to the circumstances, but somehow, that’s just not good enough.  I’m left with a sour taste in my mouth and not sure if Mr. Lube is proud of me or not.

Now, it’s back to my life on Corn Cobb Island.  Just so you know; that’s a mystical place in my mind where all musicians under the rule of “The Mathematics of Professional Music” live. That rule being; there are many more qualified and deserving musician’s than there are quality professional music jobs.  Or as I like to look at it; if you have four people in need of an outhouse but there are only three… someone is going off into the bushes with a corn cob in there hand.

Winning the audition wasn’t really the point anyway; making the best showing possible was.  Right now, with the socio-economic situation I find myself in, the overwhelming factor in my life is a need to house, clothe and feed my body.  The way I see it; taking care of my body comes first… because if I don’t God might take it back.  Then I wouldn’t have any lips to play my trombone with and that just would do at all. 

I do see that the obstacle encountering my personal life did cause all sorts of disruption to my practice sessions.  But with hind sight I now realize that wasn’t the reason for my lack of preparedness.  With the presence of the obstacle in my life I just forgot how to stop time and disappear. You see, I have found that to make the last jump from being very good trombone player to an upper Escalon trombonist, these two techniques are essential.  Yep, once you figure out how to disappear and make time stop everything else just falls right into place.  I think remembering that will be the most important lesson I take away from this experience.

Let me close by asking a favor of the person this was all about in the first place.  So Mr. Lube; do you think you can stick with me at least until my next “last” chance to show the world how well I can play the trombone?  I’ve heard that the once in a life time opportunity of being the bass trombonist for the Los Angeles Philharmonic position has just opened up.  Sounds like a Texas to LA “road trip” coming up this January 2008.  That is, if I can get invited to audition.

My deepest appreciation goes out to anyone taking the time to read my Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition :)

Take care all,
Jim

Home Page
Links to the other essays in this series;
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #2
This One's For You, Mr. Lube - Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #3 - Visualize the Entire Performance
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #4 - Writers Have Recourse
Last Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition - Back to Corn Cobb

My Adventures in Nihongo (the Japanese language)

I wanted too… I really did.  But all that came out was a big stupid sounding Hello.  You see; in my part of Texas, which is a small town southwest of Houston, I found a restaurant called The Japanese Kitchen.  It is sandwiched between a Grocery Store and a Dollar Store in a local strip mall.  

I was skeptical when I first saw it.  Japanese… yeah right I thought rather sarcastically.  I mean; my part of Texas is mainly full of red-necks and Chicanos – of which I am neither by the way.  Now; there is a large contingent of Vietnamese after that fiasco for the US fell apart in the 70’s… and Houston does have its China Town section.  But Japanese, I’ve been here most of my life and never saw anything Japanese.  I guess I was looking in the wrong places.

Several months ago I decided to check it out.  Sure enough; it was Japanese… with actual Japanese ownership, cooks and waitresses.  Wow, this is really cool I thought.  After befriending Missy, a first generation Japanese American (Missy is the Texas name I gave her) I became interested in the Japanese culture.  Then I came up with the idea for writing stories about Shisa’s in Texas.  Wanting to do my Shisa’s proud about depicting their culture to Texans I started trying to learn the Japanese language.  That’s when I found learnjapanesepod.com on the internet and started following it.  

But I have come to realize that reading about learning Japanese without any actual application opportunities is not very effective.  I do practice my fledgling Nihongo skills on Sammy and Steven – the two six inch high porcelain Shisa statues Missy send me.  But I don’t get much feedback from them.  They just blankly stare back at me.  That is why I was rather excited to find a Japanese presence in my part of Texas.  The only problem now is building up the never to actually speak the little Nihongo I think I know to a real Japanese person – Yikes!!!

There was a rather tight feeling in my stomach as I locked and closed the door to my mini-van last week.  When I turned and started walking toward The Japanese Kitchen an almost dizziness caused me to list to left a bit as I crossed the parking lot - although, I kept the word konnichiwa (hello) firmly in my mind the entire time.  This was to be the first word of Nihongo I would ever to speak to another human being.  


As I grabbed the handle on the front door to The Japanese Kitchen the tight feeling in my stomach rose a bit to my chest and then grabbed my throat.  As I entered, the waitress enthusiastically greeted me saying - in a delightful Japanese accent - welcome, please sit where you please.  That’s when I heard that big stupid sounding “Hello” come out of my mouth.

As dejected as I was at my failure; I was determined to make a come back.  During my supper I whispered to myself arigatou gozaimasu… arigatou gozaimasu (thank you very much)  So; after the nakai (waitress) handed me the check I looked at her… she looked at me… I looked back at her… and then heard this big stupid sounding Thank You come out of my mouth.

D'oh!!!… Oh what a Homer Simpson I am.

Oh well, the next time I dine at The Japanese Kitchen I will be more prepared to make my inaugural venture into to the practical application of Nihongo… maybe.

Guijin Jim

Home Page

Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #4 - Writers Have Recourse

(In 2007 I came across a once in a lifetime opportunity for a trombone player such as myself; auditioning for the Houston Symphony Orchestra.  During my preparation I wrote six pieces about my thoughts at the time.  This is the fifth.)

Well… I have to say; this last week has been hell.  It was suppose to be the time of my most intense practicing.  Right now it's the Thursday night before my Tuesday audition next week.  I'm sitting in the same hard wood chair in the middle of the living room, facing the same music perched upon the black music stand.  This time though, I have every light possible turned on and the living room is awash with light.  I find this to be a much more uplifting environment for practicing than the dark and moody setting I used several weeks ago.  But unfortunately, even though I might be sitting in a bright and uplifting environment, the setting inside me is dark and moody.

Because of a major obstacle encountered in my personal life, the practice plans for this very crucial week of preparation has been decimated.  Feeling pressured to do more with less time; the practicing I did do seemed rushed and frantic.  Last Friday, I was supposed to meet with a good friend who is a professional bass trombonist.  That would have given me over a week to work on all the bass trombone tips and tricks he would have had for me.  But the obstacle dropped onto my life the day before our planned meeting and it had to be rescheduled.  Now I’m only going to get three days, instead of ten, to work on any suggestions he would of had for me.

As I sit a bit slumped in the chair, with my left hand loosely grasping the trombone as it sits on my knee, I am blankly starting at the music perched upon the music stand.  In a way, I am thinking my trombone playing is actually worse now than a week ago.  An uneasy feeling is starting to grip my insides as a chill is coursing up and down my body.  The thought of hearing that "Thank You – Next" coming from behind the partition during my audition.

With this, I am reminded of how devastated writers say they are when they get a rejection letter from a publisher.  Sure that's tough.  But writers at least have recourse when they receive a rejection letter.

When a classical musician gets rejected; it is immediate, in person and in front of others.  Standing all along on the stage; after hearing "Thank You, Next" spoken firmly by the judges – sometimes even while still playing – all the classical musician can do is put their instrument down, stand up straight with head high and self pride painfully low, turn around, politely give a forced smile to the audition monitor and exit the stage.

Writers get their rejection notice by way of a non-descript note sent in the mail and received in the privacy of their homes.  Upon opening the letter and reading that they have been rejected; writers can raise their hand high giving the publisher the one fingered salute, then, take the rejection letter and wipe their ass with it.  Like I said, writers have recourse. 

And yes… I am speaking from personal experience in both cases.

Jim

Home Page

Links to the other essays in this series;
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #2
This One's For You, Mr. Lube - Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #3 - Visualize the Entire Performance
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #4 - Writers Have Recourse
Last Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition - Back to Corn Cobb

Jim from Texas on Chasing Chickens

Home Page

My First Gig

My first experience as a professional musician came when I was thirteen years old.  Czech is my ethnic heritage and I grew up in a Czech farming community in Texas.  Just for fun, me and a bunch of my eight grade band buddies use to get together yo play some of the polkas and waltzs our parents danced to when they were young.  It was fun, we were pretty good and this lead to performing at wedding and bar-b-que’s during the summer.  There was no pay involved, but, at that age at least, eating as good we did at the functions was worth more than money.

We even made it to radio; being featured on the local Sunday afternoon American Czech hour that was broadcast live from some of the events we played at.  We were a hit, being just kids and playing the music that the grown ups like to dance to.

Then one of the Dads decided to try and take this a step farther.  After one of our live radio performances the owner of a local dance hall approached him with the prospect of hiring us for their New Years Eve dance that year.  I am sure the dollar signs started to dance in the farmers eyes as thoughts of his son being in a soon-to-be world famous polka band took over his thoughts.  On the spot the two neophyte entertainment entrepreneurs hammered out what was expected of the dance hall to provide for the band, and, what the band was to provide for the dance hall.  Hands were shook and the deal was done.

There is not a memory more vividly burned into my mind than watching the parallel rows in the freshly plowed field we drove by, illuminated by the car lights, fan past as I looked out the car window on the way to my first “gig”.  I will remember the thoughts that crossed my mind at that point for the rest of this life… and probably for many to come, “This is what I want to do with my life.  I want to be a professional musician and play my trombone for everyone.”
Well as can be expected; the mix of pre-pubescent teenage musicians and an adult New Years Eve crowd did not mesh.  I do believe the only thing that keep beer bottles from flying was the age and innocent of the band members.  After an hour and a half the would-be merrymaker had gone on to merrier circumstances.  All that was left was the clash of management and band manager as to whose fault the failure was and who owed who. 

Yes you can say I was exposed to both the highs and the lows of professional music in my first night on the job.  The naiveté of youth is the only explanation I can come up with for my joy as I went home with the first few dollars I had earned as a musician.

Jim

Home Page

Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #3 - Visualize the Entire Performance.

(In 2007 I came across a once in a lifetime opportunity for a trombone player such as myself; auditioning for the Houston Symphony Orchestra.  During my preparation I wrote six pieces about my thoughts at the time.  This is the forth.)

Well… here it is, six days away from my audition, to the minute I might add (not that I'm counting) and I have already started my visualizations.   You see, I have just returned from walking up to the front office.  And on my way back my mind unexpectedly took me away to Jones Hall.  As the office cubicles I was walking between faded in my mind eye, I looked down and could see my feet, dressed in my best Sunday shoes, striding across the stage of Jones Hall headed toward center stage.

Oh, I guess I should explain that I am at work right now.  This time there is no black music stand in front of me with white sheet music blaring brightly - illuminated by the sharp white light of a lamp.  No, this time I am looking at my works computer screen which has various work related windows opened on it.  Tucked inconspicuously amongst them all is the word processing window I am now typing in.

With my back towards the entrance of my cube, I can give a quick glance to the rear view mirror attached to the top right corner on my monitor.  If I see someone enter my cube, a quick flick of my wrist allows me to click on one of the work related windows which will completely cover this one.  Yes… trying to be a real person having a rewarding personal life in the by-the-numbers, straight-laced corporate world can be a bit of a challenge at times - at least for an artist such as myself.

Visualization is a tool that I have found effective in my preparations for a lot of situations in life.  But, I do have to say that it is not a cure all.  You see, visualizing my feet walking on the stage before an audition has become a necessity for me because of something I experienced right before my first audition in Jones.  And it didn’t even have anything to do with my trombone playing.

It was years back while standing just off stage that I was visualizing with all my might.  In my minds eye I raised the trombone to my mouth, took a deep breath and began playing some of the most glorious sounds ever heard by man on this earth - on pitch, in tempo and with a musical flare that would have even made that grouchy ol’ green Grinch smile.  But that's just the thing, all this visualizing was for after I walked out to center stage.  In the particular situation I am remembering; it should have been the trip out to center stage receiving the focus of my visualizations.  No pun intended.

For this particular audition, the stage was set for a concert later that night.  The artistic minds that configure such things had come with the idea of setting each section of the orchestra on a riser of their own.  This resulted in twenty or so, six feet by ten feet risers in varying heights, scattered about the stage - all painted white, so you would think seeing them wouldn't be a problem – right?

As the audition coordinator gave me the OK to proceed on to the stage I started weaving my way between the risers.  Totally focused on the music, I came too close to the last one and inadvertently kicked it.  Being caught by surprise I almost lost grip of my trombone as I stumbled out to center stage.  I did recover and regained control.  Although, I have to say the snickering of the stage monitor didn't help matters.  That is one time I was glad the judges were behind a partition for the preliminary round.

If I had dropped my trombone, I am almost sure that immediately after the metal clanking noise of my trombone skidding across the stage  was heard, the next sound would have been a dismayed "Thank You - Next" coming from behind the partition.  I have found you can be forgiven missing a few notes, but dropping your trombone during an audition puts you on a whole different level of incompetence.

As you can see; how one enters the stage can set up the audiences perception of the rest of the performance.  But believe me; leaving the stage can also present its very own set of pitfalls - as I found out in another audition several years later.  And that time, the sound of metal clanking as it skid across the floor was heard.

This audition was for an extra/substitute player, so a full time position was not in the offering.  Unfortunately, because of this I didn't put as much effort into my preparation as I should have.  But, unknown to me at the time, this audition was to throw in a whole different kind of a twist.

Entering the stage door the afternoon of the audition, my mind was full of all the notes I was to play.  As I approached the sign-in table a familiar female voice struck my ears, "Welcome, please sign in at the security window right behind you first."  It was the same voice that called me on the phone a few weeks before to inform me of the time and date for my audition.  An intriguingly lovely voice, I remembered wondering if I would get the chance to meet the person behind it.  As I looked up, there she was… and she was a cutie I have to say.

If you haven't guessed, at that point all thoughts of the music I was to play had vanished from my mind.  But, as I turned to the security window, the reality of the situation became clear once again.  Mainly because the security guards name was Frank - as I derived form the name tag on his nicely starched, light blue security uniform shirt - and he wasn't nearly as cute.  Although, he did have a friendly smile and was very helpful in showing me where to sign and date the sheet. 

Being the professional that I am, from then on I was able to gather my wits, continue on with the rest of the sign in and proceed to the warm up room awaiting me.  Yes… it was Cutie that led me to the room but I remained resolute in my focus.

Once in the warm up room, I found my lack of preparation starting to show.  The trombone solo from Ravel's Bolero was the first excerpt to be played.  I had been playing it for years and knew it backwards and forwards.  Although, it is a particularly difficult one because the very first note is a high B flat… and in the warm up room that afternoon I couldn't hit it clearly to save my life.  Panic started to set in and visions of San Antonio started to creep into my mind.

You see, San Antonio is where I participated in my very first audition for a major symphony orchestra.  There, the same excerpt was up first.  At that time, I planned on impressing the judges by walking out on stage and starting right out on the excerpt without playing any warm up notes.  (Just so you know; I don't do that anymore.)

As I confidently walked out to center stage to begin the audition, my mind visualized a crystal clear note coming forth.  Once in place I stopped, raised my trombone, took a big breath, blew through the horn and cracked that high B flat big time.  I mean, I split it right down the middle.  The worst part was hearing it echo off the rear wall of the hall right back at me.  It sounded like someone had just kicked a chicken.  I quickly gathered my composure, turned my head to the stage monitor and (since you can't talk during the audition) mouthed to her, "OK. I'm warmed up.  I'll start playing now."  She just nodded back with a "Yeah, right… chicken kicker" look on her face.

That vision started stoking my apprehension in the warm up room right before the extra/substitute audition to the point where breathing correctly became an issue.  But I took several deep full breaths, focused and calmly took control of myself.  Then I just visualized playing that high B flat - being sure not to repeat the San Antonio incident.  After fifteen seconds or so of visualizing, I would pick up my horn and play the note once.  Then repeating the visualization segment I would play the note again.  Repeating this several more times, I regained control and was playing the high B flat consistently with the crystal clear clarity my mind was visualizing.

I have to say that I was pleased with my performance in that audition.  Making it through the Bolero, I started to gain confidence.  My excitement level rose after playing each excerpt and I started to enjoy myself.  Although, I do believe the intense focus I was putting on just hitting the notes detracted from playing them musically.  Thus, I wasn't offered the position.  But then, I didn't kick any chickens either.

Upon finishing the last excerpt, my body was flush with adrenalin.   I excitedly gathered my music from the stand and started to walk off the stage... and there she was.  Standing just off stage, Cutie was ready to escort me back to the waiting area.  A big grin was plastered across her face and in my delusional, self absorbed imagination I knew it was just for me and the way I had performed.  But in reality I am sure her expression was the same for all the other trombonists after they auditioned.

Buy the time I reached her, my mouth was talking a mile a minute.  I can't remember a word of it right now but she seemed interested at the time.  With my hands moving over expressively, I forgot that I hadn't locked my slide and it slid right off the end of the trombone.  The metal clanking sound of my trombone slide skidding across the floor reverberated throughout that back stage area.

As I hurried forward, chasing after my trombones slide, my mouth uttered, "Crap!!!"   That's right… I cursed in front of the pretty lady.  I think I hated that more than dropping my slide.  But I figured what the hell; with this turn of events she already thinks I'm a moron.

So you see, no matter how important playing the music correctly is, all musical performances start off stage and end off stage.  When using the very useful technique of visualizations, be sure not to cut yourself short and include the entire performance.

Oh No!!! I’d better go now, I think I hear my boss coming this way.  Just remember; Visualize wisely… there is more to it than meets the eye - your mind's eye that is.

Jim

Home Page

Links to the other essays in this series;
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #2
This One's For You, Mr. Lube - Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #3 - Visualize the Entire Performance
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #4 - Writers Have Recourse
Last Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition - Back to Corn Cobb

Life has taken my trombone away from me, but…

I came into this world a trombone player and I will leave this world a trombone player.  But I have found that doesn’t necessarily give me a free ride as a trombone player while I’m here.  You see; I was given the talent, desire and opportunities to have spent my entire life as a professional trombonist.  In essence; life gave me my trombone.  But as a young man I had a serious case of dumb ass.  During that time I make some bad decisions that took me out of my beloved profession altogether.

I did get over my case of dumb ass - with the help of the hard knocks and heartaches those bad decisions left me with.  But life, in seeing how long it was going to take me to deal with those bad decisions, had no choice but to take my trombone from me.  No matter how hard I now try I lack the opportunity and connections to get back into professional music – leaving me on the outside looking in.

Now life, oh this glorious life, has given me something to help out while I desperately search for the opportunities to get back into professional music.  Life gave me a reader.  Just one mind you, but that’s all it takes in my book.  You see; I also have this writing thing - a need to write something, anything actually, that someone might find amusing; or interesting; or even inspirational… if I may be so bold as to say.

The way I see it you can’t call yourself a real writer until you have readers.  Mine is the balm that sooths my soul in times of feeling inadequate about being on the outside looking in.  She says she enjoys my writing and has red everything I have written.  And no matter how goofy; no matter how outlandish; no matter how bad it might be written, she is always encouraging and supportive.

So, even though I am on the outside looking in; even though I am currently fighting hard knocks and heartaches, I can hold my head up as I face my future.  I have a reader after all… and for my one reader I will strive as hard as I can to make my writing the best it can be.

I also know that once the doors open allowing me go back inside, my reader will also be sitting front row center for those efforts too.

Life is a journey that must be shared – no matter with how many or how few.

Take care all,
Jim

This One’s For You, Mr. Lube / Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition

(In 2007 I came across a once in a lifetime opportunity for a trombone player such as myself; auditioning for the Houston Symphony Orchestra.  During my preparation I wrote six pieces about my thoughts at the time.  This is the third.)

In my minds eye, no matter how many years I end up living, I will always just see myself as a dumb ass kid carrying a trombone case headed to my lesson.  You see, I am an Al Lube student - nothing more, nothing less.  Unfortunately, I also see myself as one of his biggest disappointments as a student.

Mr. Lube had me under his trombone wing, so to speak, for six years - starting when I was sophomore in high school.  As a high school senior, Mr. Lube would sneak me into some of the Houston Symphony Orchestra rehearsals.  There I would be able to sit in the back of the rehearsal hall and just watch and listen to some of the best classical musicians in the world.

But; I was wooed away from the classical music world by the sounds of blues notes, extravagant high-brow parties and the thrill of fast times.  Damn fool kid is what I call myself when I think back on those times.  But then, I don't blame myself for going that route either.  There, I found the guidance and comfort of other mentors in music - and life - who ended up being just as important to me as Mr. Lube.

By the time I was a young man, I had established myself as a successful professional free lance trombonist.  Then, about a year away from making my move to the West Coast, I made an unwitting decision that took me out of the profession all together.  Now, I'm sitting here in the middle of the night, pecking away on a computer keyboard posting my thoughts into this chasm called cyberspace; as the words of Terry Malloy, in the inimitable voice of Marlon Brando, endlessly recites in my head, "I could have been a contender… I could have been a contender..."

Because of the state I have let my life slip into; I don't consider winning an audition to be feasible anymore.  In all of the symphony auditions I have been a part of; stretching myself personally by operating outside of my comfort zone was the main objective.  Success was marked by just playing all of the orchestra excerpts in the first round before getting the "hook" – which I did accomplish on several occasions.

Now, it seems a small space has opened in my life; a space in which I have a good, comfortable, reliable place to practice; a space where I won't have to work at my second job for the next couple of weeks.  And right in the big middle of that small space has appeared a very meaningful situation in which I can demonstrate how well I play the trombone; a situation that will give me the opportunity to stand on a world class stage, in front of the finest professional musicians around and make Mr. Lube proud of me again.

Yes indeed, when I step out onto that world class stage to audition for the Houston Symphony Orchestra, you can bet I won't be thinking about comfort zones, hooks, the state my life or opportunities squandered in the past.  The only thing I will be thinking at that point is, "This one's for you, Mr. Lube."

(Side Note: You know, during one of my trombone lessons when I was a sophomore in high school, Mr. Lube looked at me and told me the mouthpiece I was playing on was named after him.  In total awe, I looked down at the letters stamped on the bright shinny metal and read, "Bach 6 ½" AL" (intending for me to believe the AL was for Al Lube).  He really told me that; and I really believed him… until I saw that coy little grin of his.)

Jim

Home Page

Links to the other essays in this series;
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #2
This One's For You, Mr. Lube - Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #3 - Visualize the Entire Performance
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #4 - Writers Have Recourse
Last Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition - Back to Corn Cobb

Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #2

(In 2007 I came across a once in a lifetime opportunity for a trombone player such as myself; auditioning for the Houston Symphony Orchestra.  During my preparation I wrote six pieces about my thoughts at the time.  This is the second.)

I have to tell you, last night after my practice session for my audition with the HSO I was so elated about my progress I upgraded my chances of winning from "none at all" to "an outside chance".  I even sent out emails to my friends spreading the word.  Unfortunately it is not last night anymore and right now I am dumbfounded, bewildered and bumfuzzeled – all at the same time.  (For some reason I am hearing the melody of an old Rogers and Hart tune in my head.  Oh wait!  That’s bewitched, bothered and bewildered.  Sorry… that’s a musical for another time.)

I just finished a very crappy practice session.  All of a sudden, my trombone playing seems to have turned upside down on its head.  And things were going so good up to this point.  Now, it's the middle of the very next night; I'm sitting in my living room on the hard wooden chair from my dining table, totally exhausted mentally and physically; looking down at my legs stretched out in front of me with my back leaning on the back of the chair.  My left arm, aching, is sort of half cocked in my lap and I can see strange dark blue indentions in the palm of my hand - apparently the results from holding this monster of a bass trombone up on my shoulder for the last hour and a half.  I don't even want to talk about the way my shoulder feels.

As I look up, I see the black music stand in front of me with the white sheet music blaring brightly, illuminated by the sharp white light of a lamp.  I am reflecting on this evening's disaster of a practice session and wishing that I didn't even have friends because all I'm going to end up doing is disappointing them.  In the silence of this moment, my trombone teacher's voice starts running through my mind, "You know, if it was easy, everyone would be the bass trombonist for a major symphony orchestra.  Now the memory of that coy little grin of his shines through my mind and keeps that musical spark from going out completely.

Who knows why or how life can turn upside down on you from one moment to the next; why opportunities can vanish in the blink of an eye; why one night you might have your trombone playing totally under control and the next night you can't even seem to blow your nose.  But then maybe, figuring this out is what life is all about.  Maybe, this audition is not about the audition at all.  Maybe, it is just about what my life is and how I choose to live it.

One thing is for sure though, no matter how dark and bleak this night might seem, the sun will come out tomorrow.

(How strange… a picture of Little Orphan Annie and that scraggly mutt of hers just popped into my head.  Oh Crap!!! I'd better start thinking about something else real fast before she starts singing that damn Tomorrow song.  Once you get that going in your head there's no escaping it.  And you can bet your bottom dollar on that.)

I guess this just all goes to show that Frank was right when he use to say …riding high in April, shot down in May - That's Life.  Actually he sang it, but you know what I mean. 

(Have you ever have one of those nights where, uninvited, all these tunes from old musicals and stuff start coming into your head.  I think I just did.)

Jim

Home Page

Links to the other essays in this series;
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #2
This One's For You, Mr. Lube - Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #3 - Visualize the Entire Performance
Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition #4 - Writers Have Recourse
Last Thoughts on a Major Symphony Orchestra Audition - Back to Corn Cobb

Update on Debut Video

As you can see; this in not a video yet.  But that’s why I am here giving you an update.

Hello everyone, it’s me… Jim
Welcome to my studio.
(Well, this is actually just the back corner of my bedroom where I built a computer desk; but I call it my studio… Backroom Music Studio to be exact.)

Unbeknownst to Traci Toguchi; her Question of the Day sparked my creativity and lit up my imagination.  The question “What sparks your creativity”, my answer “Interacting with fellow artists such as yourself”.  But with this particular interaction my mind was set on fire with inspiration for a video response.  The video is now complete in my mind but, unfortunately, I still lack the equipment.  That is why you are only seeing photos and text here. 

But I have been sparked me into action.  So if you don’t mind; as part of my efforts to keep the fire going until I acquire the proper equipment, I would like to keep you up to date with my progress.

Look at this dinosaur I found in my parent’s closet this weekend.

It’s a monster you actually have to  carry on your shoulder and records directly to a VHS tapes.  Now how in the heck does one transfer video from a VHS tape to a computer without spending a bucket load of money.

Let me tell you of one other reason I find interacting with TT to be a spark for my creativity.  I have been planning on shooting internet video’s for years.  Finding Traci’s Question of the Day is the main reason I started following her exploits.  You see; the same video techniques she is using in her QoD is exactly what I had envisioned for my video’s.  In watching and studying Miss Traci’s video techniques I was seeing my own visions come to life.

Traci posts her Questions of the Day Monday thru Friday and would love to hear everyone's answers.  And I can tell you that this Social Media Sweetheart will reply to every one.

Traci Toguchi’s Questions of the Day can be found at:
https://tracitoguchi.wordpress.com/
On twitter under @tracitoguchi
Or youtube under tracitoguchiinc

Now remember… that’s Traci with an “i”
Just so you know; I have this CD and luv it. 

A truly amazing voice - that’s Traci Toguchi.

http://cdbaby.com/cd/toguchi
http://www.buyhawaiianmusic.com

Well… until the next update on my video response to TT’s QoD.  Or, hopefully, maybe even the announcement of the finished video itself :)


Take care all.
Jim