Renewed acquaintance

More than 20 years I ago I played the trombone. I was pretty good. I played from the sixth grade through high school and then played a little in college. I even played a little in the military. But then in '94 I stopped playing. I just got too busy with college again, and then a career, and didn't think about taking music too seriously.

I wish I had.

There have been times over the years that I tried to sell my trombone, thinking that my playing days were gone. But I could only get $15 offers for it. It's just a student trombone that probably was older than me when I got it. It was dented and ugly. But $15 seemed too cheap a price to sell out years of playing and performing. It's still dented and ugly. But now I am glad I never did sell it.

Around Christmas time I brought out the horn and started playing again after I went to an opera in which our daughter performed. I had talked to one of the pit trombonists and told him I used to play. He asked me why I didn't play anymore. I didn't have a good answer. Just life and time getting away from me, I guess.

It was fun playing Christmas carols, albeit choppy and rusty, as I remembered the slide positions and notes. Although dented and ugly, this little horn still has a lot of music left in it.

Last month as our church was planning a valentine's dinner, Glory got the idea that we could play a piece together; she on the piano and I on the trombone. We practiced a little and then on Saturday we played an old hymn, "O Perfect Love," which Glory scored. That in and of itself was an accomplishment for Glory because she doesn't read music. Our performance came as a complete surprise to those in attendance. It was a beautiful time, and I was happy to be able to make sweet music together with my lovely bride.

Now I am wanting to play all the time, and I am a little surprised how quickly it's all coming back to me. Over the years I have tried to learn the piano and the guitar, but never have had the patience or dexterity to get very far. But, hidden away in a closet, storage or even under my bed, was my horn, being dragged along like an old high school scrapbook just waiting to be reopened and memories relived.

Glory thinks I should buy a new trombone and really get serious. I looked at a couple at a local music store today. Perhaps I will.

Bill