It began 4 years ago...

About 4 years ago, I read an article about the importance of introducing ones children to live music at an early age, and how doing so would help infants with their mental development.  I really don't know if there was any scientific basis for what I read, but that didn't matter, I decided that I would give it a try.  I figured it wouldn't hurt to start playing a musical instrument for my little boy. 

In my garage I had two instruments whose cases were just collecting dust and I just had to pick one to start learning.  At first, I thought it would be an easy choice but after looking at each case my imagination took over and I started weighing the pros and cons of each.  One instrument was my faithful King trombone, awarded to me as a gag prize at Circus, Circus! in Las Vegas... a story for another blog...  The other instrument was a disused accordion that I had never played.  I had played the trombone in grade school and off and on as an adult, but was never really any good at it.  This lack of trombonic musicianship was most likely attributable to a lack of practice more than anything else.  The accordion was never played; the most action it had ever seen in my hands was an initial squeeze of the bellows while holding down the keys... just to see if it made sound... 

            I had to choose.  Or did I?  Sitting in that sweltering hot garage in the middle of August and contemplating the benefits of choosing one instrument over the other, it dawned on me, I didn’t have to make a choice.  I picked both boxes up and went in the cooler, air conditioned house to settle the matter.  In his bassinet, playing with some toy or another, Aiden perked up to pay attention to dad and these new objects when I entered the living room.  First, I took out my trombone.  I added a drop of slide oil on the slide, set the mouth piece and blew a couple of notes.  Aiden lit up and reached out for the horn.  I played a couple of slides and tooted out a few more random notes.  He seemed interested and I wondered if I should even break out the squeeze box.  I decided to stick to my plan, disassembled and then put the trombone back in its case. 

Next, I opened the accordion case.  I can’t speak to the reactions of other folks, but something about musical instruments awakens a bit of magic when gazing at them.  I think it has to do with the potential of the object.  Maybe it is a conditioned anticipation of the wonderful possibilities stirred by the spell musicians cast with their wands, the instruments in their hands that tease out emotion.  Maybe it is something deeper, held to the core of our evolutionary past that evokes the emotional, I can’t say for sure. 

Looking down at that beautiful black and silver instrument induced two fundamentally defining emotions in me, whimsy and trepidation.    I pondered the accordion music I had heard, mostly German ‘oom pah” polkas and some Mexican music and thought, “what a ridiculous sound these things make, how could I take learning this seriously”.  In almost the very same moment I asked myself, “how in the hell can anyone learn to play such a complicated instrument?  Look at all those keys!”  I looked over at Aiden to see him looking intently at the box, he seemed as skeptical as I was about it.  Finally I decided I would take out the accordion and see what sounds I could produce, and while doing so had already decided that Aiden couldn’t possibly react any better to this instrument than he had to the trombone…

Next week, “There can only be one!”