The reluctant tubist
I started band later than almost everyone else in middle school. They all started at the beginning of the year in 6th grade. I was the new kid so I really didn’t know anyone. I kind of wanted to be in the band, but I had no idea what instrument I wanted to play… The only instrument name I really knew was the saxophone, and I wasn’t so sure about that one.
Like most other band recruitment programs for beginners, I am sure there was a demonstration of the various instruments… I just can not recall it for the life of me. There were some band students in my classes, So I would hear about the band all the time. Of course I thought it was too late to join the band.
Fast forward to the Christmas concert. It’s the Debut of the 6th grade band. I will never forget them playing “The Bionic Flea”… I was completely dumbfounded. It was such a beautiful sound. The sound of all of the instruments playing together spoke to me and stirred something inside of me. I didn’t understand then why it affected me so much. I knew right then and there that I had to get in the band. It wasn’t a want, but a NEED. I started paying close attention to the instruments. I needed to play something. I keyed in on the brass section. At that time, the brass section only consisted of trumpets and trombones. I was going to play trumpet!
Close to the end of the year, I found the band director and just asked if I could join the band. He asked what I wanted to play. When I told him Trumpet, he looked at me… He looked me up and down. He took my frame into consideration, ( I was a little taller and broader than the rest of my classmates, I mean I was an athlete afterall) and says, “You should play the tuba.”
“The tuba?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about, so he told me to come by the band room the next day and he would show me all about it.
When I saw this twisted up, ugly giant hunk of metal, I knew exactly why he looked at me the way that he did… this thing was going to be heavy. It was nowhere near as heavy as I expected it to be. He let me take it home for the summer and I practiced and practiced and practiced. This would become a through line for me. I really liked practicing my instrument.
We moved later that summer so I would be starting a whole new school. Which meant I didn’t have to play the tuba anymore and I could actually play the trumpet like I really wanted to!
I am a year behind and at a completely different school. I am last chair for the majority of the year. I failed all the challenges. I worked really, REALLY hard, but I just could not beat the guy sitting one chair ahead of me.
I was determined not to be last chair for the whole year. i worked and practiced and practiced and practiced. Challenges roll around again and I challenge Eddie (not his real name) for his seat. BOOM! i beat him!!! I am finally not last chair! Now I set the goal of being first chair. One chair at a time. If I remember correctly, I am now sitting 7th chair. About two weeks later I am warming up my instrument, still riding the high of not being last chair, when I realize that Eddie isn’t sitting down next to me. I just saw him in science or whatever class we had before band. Is this fool skipping BAND?! I must have hurt his pride by being so great at trumpet, you know, not being last chair and all.
I look up and see that Eddie is sitting between the trombones and the tubas holding this little tiny tuba. This fool has switched to playing baritone; which means that I am last chair again. And just like that, my dream of not finishing the year as last chair trumpet has vanished.
Over the following summer, I am practicing my tail off. I am NOT going to stay as last chair. I REFUSE!! But… my sister had other plans… I have no idea how, she completely detached the lead pipe. I had to start the school year playing this broken down trumpet. Whenever I had an extended rest, my horn just flopped and looked like a rotary trumpet… I was DONE…
All of the sudden I hear this deep, warm, brass sound… it was the tuba section sounding full and beautiful. We had a brand new band director that year, unbeknownst to me, he was a tuba player as well. So I asked Mr. Wasson (This IS his real name) if I could switch to the tuba. He said I could, but I would need a mouthpiece. I still had the mouthpiece from when I was “Playing the tuba” in 6th grade.
This was the beginning of my journey playing the tuba. Of course I am sitting in last chair… again… but for some reason, I don’t mind it this time… well that’s not true. Sitting third chair tuba sounds a lot better than last chair trumpet.
