Every musician has his own story about choosing his instrument. Here's mine.
In the public school district where I grew up (Woodland Joint Unified in Woodland, CA) the instrumental music program started in the 5th grade.
In the 5th grade our school's music teacher, Mr. Corvo, came around to my classroom and introduced us to the instruments of the band. (Band, not orchestra -- the string program had been dropped years earlier.) He demonstrated each of the instruments for us and then asked who would like to learn to play an instrument. I raised my hand.
The next week he came back and gave a musical aptitude test to those of us who were interested. As best I recall, this involved discerning pitch -- which tone is higher, which tone is louder -- sort of like a hearing test. The test was important, I later found out, because it determined who would get to use a school instrument and who would have to rent their own.
On that same visit, he asked us to state our instrument of preference. I first said I wanted to play the tuba. I liked the tuba because it was big and heavy and made a nice fat sound.
But Mr. Corvo told me that they usually don't start kids out on the tuba because of its size. He suggested that I choose another brass instrument and later, when I was a little older, I could switch to the tuba if I still wanted. Seeing as how a few other kids had already chosen the trumpet, Mr. Corvo suggested the trombone. I went along.
I guess I didn't do so well on the aptitude test because, when Mr. Corvo came back a third time, he told me I would have to rent a trombone.
I remember going down to Traynham's Music with my mom and renting the trombone. It was an Olds student trombone. It had a brown vinyl case with the inside lined with copper-colored velvet. It was new and had that new instrument smell.
The trombone and I had a very flighty relationship. That first year, being the only trombonist in the school, I took my group lesson with Carol Hulbert who played the mellophone (a precursor to the French horn). Carol progressed a bit faster than me and, by the end of the year, I was disinterested. The instrument just didn't grab me. Plus, I was what, 11 years old? Nuff said.
My next attempt at music came in the 7th grade when they offered a guitar class at the Jr. High. My mom had this Harmony arch top sitting around that I used for the class. (She'd given up trying to learn a few years earlier.) The class was taught by Mrs. Schwartz.
At one point during the semester, Mrs. Schwartz taught us how to do the thumb-brush strum, where you alternately pluck the root and the fifth of the chord with your thumb in the bass register, and then use the rest of your fingers to strum the remainder of the chord. It's sort of the standard country-western strum.
I remember one day, while we were practicing the thumb-brush strum, I thought to myself how easy it would be to play the bass, like Dick Smothers, and just do the thumb part.
The next year, in the 8th grade, I signed up for what was called Beginning Band, designed for kids who wanted to start an instrument late in the game. There was a part of me that regretted quitting the trombone and I wanted to give it another go. I still liked the idea of playing in band. I wanted to be a part of that.
This time I was able to get a school instrument. I was able to pick up the trombone again fairly easily. Interestingly, the Jr. High band instructor was Mr. Schwartz, the guitar teacher's husband.
In the corner of one of the practice rooms in the Jr. High music building, there was an upright bass. No one played it. It was a leftover from the days when there was string program. It made me think again about playing the bass notes, like Dick Smothers. I wanted to give it a try.
When I asked Mr. Schwartz about it, he said there was no one at the school to teach me, but that the high school music teacher, Mr. Alfree, played the bass and that, maybe if I called him, he would give me lessons.
Well, I did call Mr. Alfree and he did give me lessons. And a year later, I was playing in the high school jazz band. That was 36 years ago.
Through the years, I've considered other instruments. I've even tried to pick up the trombone again a few times. I've learned a little guitar, a little piano, but bass has always been my primary instrument.
However, I think if I had to choose over again, I would choose the trumpet. I think be-bop trumpet playing is like the coolest thing there is. The image of Miles Davis bent over his horn, blopping and blooping, arching his eyebrows -- how cool is that?
Plus, it's so compact. You can just show up with your gig bag over your shoulder. No amp. No bulk. It's perfect for jam sessions.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Steve Ackley
Let's Play Jazz
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