Tuesday, January 25, 2005
An Old Bach Trombone
It was a long day and about eight hours from now I'll be starting all over again. I've only been home about an hour, just long enough to watch an episode of Futurama and one of The Simpsons.
I spent the day as a special education aide at the high school. Interestingly, it's the job my sister used to do full time. I think I have a little more respect for what she used to deal with on a daily basis. Though it's hard work, it's really rewarding. I would have to think long and hard before doing something like that full time. Still, I really enjoyed it, and will gladly accept that assignment if it comes around again.
I spent most of the day one on one with a young man whose measured IQ is around 50. I've had a little abnormal psychology though, and I don't think he's been diagnosed properly as he's just new to the school in the last month. He's probably autistic, and that makes it really difficult to acurately measure his IQ. On top of that he can do long division in his head, even the stuff with remainders. I'm absolutely amazed by the human brain on a daily basis, both ones like this guy's and those that are normally functioning. His verbal skills were really pretty high though he was difficult to understand. His motor skills were lower than average, but he still somehow managed to shoot a basketball better than me.
Another reason I think he may be autistic is that he seems really bound by patterns and routine. The classroom teacher was gone for about half of the day and I was subbing for his favorite aide. That made things difficult for him and I just sort of jumped in when he seemed to be having trouble. I became just a little piece of his routine if only for one day.
After that I got to see an old friend in action. As a high school senior I got a trombone of my own. I continued to play into college, playing in marching band and jazz band as a freshman before other commitments made it impossible for me to keep up with music at that level. I always felt bad about that because some of my best memories of high school are from music. College music was fun too, though it's the first time I realized the amazing amount of talent some people have, an amount of talent that I just can't compete with.
The trombone sat around for years. At one point I considered selling it. I packed it up in the car and drove it over to Yankton to a music shop. The guy behind the counter quoted a rediculously low amount but was honest enough to tell me I could probably get a lot more for it in Sioux Falls. I drove it back home to Vermillion and told a friend, a college music major, what I was planning to do. He urged me not to sell it. He wasn't a fan of selling musical instruments. I really didn't get his point until a friend later had the same attitude about tools. His philosophy was that you buy what ever tool you need for a job, because you never knew when you would use it again. I wasn't actively playing the trombone when I considered selling it, but I began to realize that you never know what the future might hold.
A couple of years later, my nephew joined band in junior high. He wanted to play trumpet, but my sister convinced him that trombone was better because he had an uncle who owned one. You gotta know my family to understand how that's the ultimate trump card. He played for a couple years, the trombone passed to his younger sister who played it for an extremely short period of time. The trombone ended up at my folks' house again until my sister and her family moved in across the street from them. There was one more kid in the family, she was in sixth grade and it was her turn to play the trombone.
Now I didn't start the trombone until halfway through my seventh grade year, joining concert band for my eighth grade year. As I attended my niece's band concert tonight, it's clear that she's much better on the instrument than I was at that age. If she pursues this seriously she can be extremely good. That's her choice, though. I'm not going to be that relative who pushes her too hard.
Nobody ever ruined music for me by pushing too hard. I'm sure I could have been a better musician in high school than I was, but there was a cap on how good I was ever going to be. I wasn't good enough to be a professional, but I was good enough to have a really good time with it. Since no one ever ruined it for me, it continued to stay fun. I may have stopped playing the trombone, but I never stopped playing music. About the time I stopped playing trombone is when I bought my first harmonica.
There is a custody battle brewing over that trombone, though. My niece swears it's hers. I know who it rightfully belongs to. I, at least, am trying to treat this all with good humor. Part of me wants to see what I can do with the old horn, though.
"...do you find it funny when I say the word 'tromboner'?"
BOJ
I spent the day as a special education aide at the high school. Interestingly, it's the job my sister used to do full time. I think I have a little more respect for what she used to deal with on a daily basis. Though it's hard work, it's really rewarding. I would have to think long and hard before doing something like that full time. Still, I really enjoyed it, and will gladly accept that assignment if it comes around again.
I spent most of the day one on one with a young man whose measured IQ is around 50. I've had a little abnormal psychology though, and I don't think he's been diagnosed properly as he's just new to the school in the last month. He's probably autistic, and that makes it really difficult to acurately measure his IQ. On top of that he can do long division in his head, even the stuff with remainders. I'm absolutely amazed by the human brain on a daily basis, both ones like this guy's and those that are normally functioning. His verbal skills were really pretty high though he was difficult to understand. His motor skills were lower than average, but he still somehow managed to shoot a basketball better than me.
Another reason I think he may be autistic is that he seems really bound by patterns and routine. The classroom teacher was gone for about half of the day and I was subbing for his favorite aide. That made things difficult for him and I just sort of jumped in when he seemed to be having trouble. I became just a little piece of his routine if only for one day.
After that I got to see an old friend in action. As a high school senior I got a trombone of my own. I continued to play into college, playing in marching band and jazz band as a freshman before other commitments made it impossible for me to keep up with music at that level. I always felt bad about that because some of my best memories of high school are from music. College music was fun too, though it's the first time I realized the amazing amount of talent some people have, an amount of talent that I just can't compete with.
The trombone sat around for years. At one point I considered selling it. I packed it up in the car and drove it over to Yankton to a music shop. The guy behind the counter quoted a rediculously low amount but was honest enough to tell me I could probably get a lot more for it in Sioux Falls. I drove it back home to Vermillion and told a friend, a college music major, what I was planning to do. He urged me not to sell it. He wasn't a fan of selling musical instruments. I really didn't get his point until a friend later had the same attitude about tools. His philosophy was that you buy what ever tool you need for a job, because you never knew when you would use it again. I wasn't actively playing the trombone when I considered selling it, but I began to realize that you never know what the future might hold.
A couple of years later, my nephew joined band in junior high. He wanted to play trumpet, but my sister convinced him that trombone was better because he had an uncle who owned one. You gotta know my family to understand how that's the ultimate trump card. He played for a couple years, the trombone passed to his younger sister who played it for an extremely short period of time. The trombone ended up at my folks' house again until my sister and her family moved in across the street from them. There was one more kid in the family, she was in sixth grade and it was her turn to play the trombone.
Now I didn't start the trombone until halfway through my seventh grade year, joining concert band for my eighth grade year. As I attended my niece's band concert tonight, it's clear that she's much better on the instrument than I was at that age. If she pursues this seriously she can be extremely good. That's her choice, though. I'm not going to be that relative who pushes her too hard.
Nobody ever ruined music for me by pushing too hard. I'm sure I could have been a better musician in high school than I was, but there was a cap on how good I was ever going to be. I wasn't good enough to be a professional, but I was good enough to have a really good time with it. Since no one ever ruined it for me, it continued to stay fun. I may have stopped playing the trombone, but I never stopped playing music. About the time I stopped playing trombone is when I bought my first harmonica.
There is a custody battle brewing over that trombone, though. My niece swears it's hers. I know who it rightfully belongs to. I, at least, am trying to treat this all with good humor. Part of me wants to see what I can do with the old horn, though.
"...do you find it funny when I say the word 'tromboner'?"
BOJ
# posted by Blind Orange Julius @ 9:35 PM 
