Clarinet

Last night, I was with a friend of mine who asked me if I still had my clarinet. Let's review for the masses: I played clarinet for all of two years in middle school, and I was so bad at it that my fellow clarinet players tried to sabotage me out of band. I smile now, knowing that one of those clarinet players (cough*Rochelle*cough...I know you're reading this) is now to this day one of my best friends in the world, and has been my one of my most loyal and lovely friends since our grade school lives collided. Then, it was a bit more difficult to take, knowing that I was so bad other people were mad at me. :) Not that I was particularly surprised. This was my second overt experience with rejection due to lack of performance, the first being community league softball. I truly sucked at that. Ah, Rochelle, you were good at that, too...how did you put up with me?

Anyway, by the time I got around to the clarinet, I wasn't about to let the fact that I can't read music (and for some reason, didn't feel a particular need to study it hard enough to learn how to read it), and the fact that I refused to practice my aforementioned clarinet stand in my way. It is a well-known fact that unless you are a musical prodigy, and sometimes even if you are, unless you practice, you will not be successful in music. But my real desire was to play the drums, and I was having none of this woodwind crap. Keep in mind that while I have great rhythm on a dance floor, percussion was also not a talent of mine. :) Hence the reason why I was given a clarinet and told that this was my forte. My sister was awarded the saxophone, and let me tell you, life was fun for my parents there for those few years. It sounded like dying ducks calling to each other, every night. Our poor neighbors. Kary, fortunately, had some talent, and actually practiced, so she wasn't as bad as I was. Plus, she was playing the saxophone, so she had a little more Lisa Simpson jazz/blues attitude thing going on, which made her infinitely cooler than her older sister. I just became a clarinet failure.

I find it highly ironic now that I am dating a skilled and proficient musician, whose ability to pick up any instrument and play it beautifully makes me want to gag. In the best way possible. :) I am awed by that ability, knowing that God certainly didn't hand out that gift to me at the gigantic heavenly gift exchange. But I am content to let him excel at that, marvel at talent that I will never have, and appreciate it. I love to hear him play. But, I have to say, that last night, when my friend asked me about my clarinet, I was caught off guard. She asked me if she could buy it off of me, and I had to giggle. And then I had to think about where it could possibly be hiding, and whether it really could rot away like I half expect it to be. And then she said, "Unless you want to keep it for some reason." And then my giggling turned to laughing. Am I ever going to pick up my clarinet again? Let's all hope not. SOLD!