Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Quirky, over at Musings of a Quirkyloon, is one of my favorite bloggers and she made my day when she called me a "blog sister" and gave me this award.
WOW! I've never had a sister.
I'm tickled pink....er.....or maybe that's just the glow from the celebratory wine.
Quirky and her family are musically inclined. Quirky doesn't sing in the shower. She sings in the grocery store. She is true to her name. She recently posted about a kazoo and her son is a budding rock guitarist. This got me thinking about my childhood attempts at making melodies with musical instruments.
I think I know why my mom is crazy. I drove her there. That's right. It was me and my delusional dreams of musical greatness and my constant attempts either to fit in or stand out, depending on my mood. I was a kid and kids are all crazy or brain-damaged. Just ask Bill Cosby.
First, it was a drum set. On the other hand, what kid doesn't want a set of drums to pound? I think my attempts at a good snare roll lasted about 5 minutes. I could pound that bass pedal though. I think I remember my drum set disappearing one day and Mom said the dog ate it. Hum......
When I was 11, I thought I could play the trombone. I soon learned that I was too much of a wimpy, scrawny, little thing and I couldn't haul it around or make much of a sound out of it.
If I was trying to stand out, I succeeded. I was seriously teased for this crazy escapade.
News flash: I'm still a wimp. Hubby has to do the grunt work.....like putting down toilet seats and plunging these ornery porcelain monstrosities. He also has to haul cement mix, operate huge power tools, crawl around under airplanes, and other such fun. You get the picture.
I'm good for getting you a screwdriver and maybe a wrench on a good day but I can grout and caulk (will grout for wine).
Back to the music...
I finally settled on a flute. That is, I gave in and tried to fit it with the other girls. (I'm still trying). Then I had to have a nicer flute....and a piccolo. I still have them all and they are collecting dust in the deep innards of the bedroom closet.
But after playing flute awhile, for some reason, I thought I needed to play the cornet. Huh? I had a crush on guy that played the cornet but this makes absolutely no sense to my adult (yes, I'm an adult) mind. I flashed my eyes at him and asked him for lessons. I think I received lessons in kissing (don't tell Mom). I'm not sure the instrument I had every worked right. I bought it from Sears and the valves were always sticky.
I also have a tambourine. I have no idea why. I must have wanted to be Tracy Partridge or something. I know that I always wanted to have that red hair!
Do I play any of these things now?
Um....no. I tried to get out the flute many years ago. It was depressing.
It sounded like the heavy breathing on those strange telephone calls.
I wish I could sing. Got karaoke? I can do that after a few beers and with a head cold.
As for the award, I am supposed to give it away to other blog sisters. So Ladies, grab it if you'd like and you have my permission to proudly display it on your awards shelf.
Tracy Partridge photo courtesy of http://www.cmongethappy.com/. Instrument pile photo purchased from istockphoto. All other photos courtesy of Wikipedia.