(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
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
Comments