- Somehow, people in my neighborhood figured out that I played the saxophone and asked me to play at one of the city get-togethers. I tried to explain that I really wasn’t the person for the job, but they wouldn’t listen to me. When I got there, I realized that what I’d originally thought was going to be a mildly humiliating experience was actually going to be traumatizing: All of the other performers were beyond good. It was like the very essence of music flowed through their veins! By the time I finally took the stage, the audience was expecting an incredible performance. What they got instead was me playing a weird, stilted version of “Fly me to the moon”. The sound of quiet outrage as I exited the stage is something I will never forget.
- I took saxophone lessons from this lady named Stacy for two years. It was weird being around Stacy because she was such a strange mixture of different from me and exactly the same. As a result, I often felt uneasy around her, leading to some really awkward conversations. One day while I was packing up my saxophone, I asked her if she “had it going on”. She stared at me blankly, not understanding my reference. I had to explain to her that it was from the song “Stacy’s Mom”, and with every word out of my mouth, I could see her disdain for me growing stronger. Also, she never let me use her bathroom.
- I got in this weird argument with a super intense music kid at Jazz band. I was making a dumb joke about starting a band that consisted exclusively of kazoos when suddenly, he turned around to face me, rage burning bright in his eyes. “YOU CAN’T DO THAT. THE BALANCE OF THE BAND WOULD BE ALL MESSED UP.” His outburst made me uneasy, but waved off his anger with a breezy “Technicalities”, to which he angrily responded, “No, LOGIC“. So that was fun.
- There were four jazz bands at my school, so we used to do this thing called “Nite Club” to showcase all of them. We would decorate the cafeteria to make it seem like a club from the twenties and then people from all over the neighborhood would come to dance the night away. It was always fun, but I was especially excited one year because I finally had a solo. But, alas! Each jazz band had a specific time they were supposed to go on, and somehow, me and this other kid I was friends with got our time wrong. As a result, we missed half of our concert and I missed my solo. When we finally showed up half way through, all of our band mates glared coldly at us. WORST DAY EVER.
…and the list goes on and on. Despite the fact that the time I spent with my saxophone wasn’t always pleasant, I will always be happy I decided to take it up. After all, I did get some pretty fun stories out of it! I hope that my saxophone keeps playing on for all eternity, bringing mediocre jazz into the life of everyone who hears it.