True Confessions and Crochet
In a previous post I mentioned how Pookie and I met; he and his dad were long-time members of a community jazz band when I joined as a singer. Pookie was playing lead alto sax and his dad was playing trumpet.
We cast flirtatious glances upon each other for a few weeks before he got up the nerve to ask me out. The rest, as they say, is history.
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!
It’s no surprise we produced a couple of musicians.
Chewie started guitar lessons when he was seven. He had a nice, quiet acoustic guitar. Pookie practiced saxophone in one room, Chewie practiced guitar in another. I was happy.
Chewie picked up the clarinet in middle school. By this time he’d graduated to an electric guitar with a teeny little amp, and Dobby had taken over the acoustic guitar. Pookie still practiced saxophone in one room, and now I had Chewie on clarinet or electric guitar and Dobby on acoustic guitar, each in their own room. Still happy.
When Dobby hit junior high he chose…wait for it…
In one room we had the saxophone. In another room we had the clarinet. And in the third room we had a full drum set.
That was when I discovered closed captions. And I was happy once again.
Once in a while Favorite Cellist Ever (one of Chewie’s friends, now a conservatory star himself) came to visit. Then I got to enjoy living room recitals. Chewie and FCE would pick some Great Work, plug it into the stereo, pull up sheet music from the public domain, and play along.
Also, for a brief time Dobby was part of a Pat Green cover band. They practiced here, because rhythm sections don’t travel easily.
Even without guest artists, to say my guys were playing three different instruments in three different rooms oversimplifies the situation; we must consider genre as well. Pookie plays in a few different bands, so he usually plays big band, jump blues, or jazz. When Chewie lived at home full-time, he was preparing for all state and conservatory auditions so it was all classical, all the time. Dobby practiced rock and country.
And they were playing all at the same time.
Those were truly wonderful days.
Life’s not so loud these days. We sold the electric guitars, the amps, and the drums. We’re down to three saxophones, five clarinets, two acoustic guitars, two electric keyboards, a trumpet, a flute, and a valve trombone.
Right now Chewie’s upstairs practicing repertoire as he prepares for professional auditions and his senior recital. Pookie will probably pick up his tenor sax tonight to practice covers for the oldies gig he has booked this weekend. Dobby’s home this week, but he reserves his guitar for playin’ ‘round the campfire.
Life is quieter, sure, but sometimes I get nostalgic for the days when I could tell just by listening exactly where my guys were and exactly what they were doing. I miss the comfort of knowing Chewie and Dobby are safe, happy, and fully engaged.
They’re grown now, and they don’t stay in earshot just because I want them there.
So I depend on Pookie to fill my ears with music. Play Harlem Nocturne for me, baby, because you had me at the first note.
A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.
the life, times and ramblings of jaythenerdkid. probably not safe for children.
The mountains are calling...
We've all got a story to tell.
life's wHeirdness and wonder
adventures in quittirement