A Saxy Little Story
My house is alive with the sounds of. . .well, they're a lot like the sounds of the River City boys' band in the "The Music Man," when they first pick up their instruments and are conducted by the handcuffed Harold Hill.
And it's sweet music to my ears, because THAT'S MY BOY! My No. 3 son, age 10, has joined the fifth-grade band to learn the saxophone.
I'm not sure why he picked the saxophone. I hope it's not because it's been called "The Devil's Horn." Or because it's been described as "an instrument of decadence and immorality." Or because it was once banned in Japan, and even "indicted" by a pope (Pope John Voigt II, I believe).
Most of all, I hope he didn't choose the sax just so he could give his neurotic father a bad earworm. You know, one of those songs that just plays over and over in your head. You know, one of those songs that just plays over and over in your—arrgghh! Sorry!
My earworm has nothing to do with what No. 3 plays on his sax. Instead, it's a song that contains the word "saxophone": the probably-too-obscure-for-most-readers-to-recognize "Deacon Blues," by Steely Dan. It contains this phrase "I'll learn to work the saxophone/I'll play just what I feel." (Eventually, the singer decides he wants to be nicknamed "Deacon Blues" because, you know, "they call Alabama the Crimson Tide." Don't ask me - this song came out in 1977, and I still don't get it.)
To drown out "Deacon Blues," I'm forcing my brain to "hear" the first tune that No. 3 ever played for me on his sax: "Hot Cross Buns." He was fiercely determined to show he could play it after only his second lesson. Unfortunately, he got perfectionistic about it, which led to some frustration: the notes for "Hot" and "Cross" came out fine, but he just couldn't stick the "Buns," which made him very hot and cross.
No. 3 is the first of my boys to take up a musical instrument. I'm not counting the ocarinas that my mother-in-law gave Nos. 3, 4 and 5 a couple summers ago. (Though they appeared harmless, the ocarinas were actually devices of cruel torture in the hands of three small boys, who tooted them tunelessly and endlessly until they were mysteriously stolen by, um, lemurs, I think it was. Yes, lemurs.)
Anyway, I warned No. 3 that he had inherited no musical genes from his parents - we don't have a musical bone in our bodies. He said of course we do: "Cavemen used to make a sort of xylophone from the ribcages of elders who had been mysteriously killed by, um, lemurs, I think it was. Yes, lemurs." Then he gave me a savage little wink.
No. 3 is learning his saxophone fundamentals from a book called "Learn to Play the Saxophone!," authored by a guy named Frederick Jacobs. Fred is one of those people you can Google until you severely sprain your MCL (Mouse Clicking Ligament) and still learn nothing about. Which makes me wonder if I should trust him with my child's sax education.
Fred's book contains dozens of tunes and snippets from great composers like Bach, Brahams, Beethoven, and Tchaikovsky. Their stuff is mixed in with timeless classics like "Hey Diddle Diddle," "Go Tell Aunt Rhodie," and "Grandma Grunts."
I can't wait to hear that one.
My favorite song in the book was written by the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius. It's my favorite because No. 3 always plays it at the end of his practice, so I know he's finally just about finnished.
# # #
O joy! Deacon Blues just paused to mention that he's settling into my brain for the winter - and he's invited Grandma Grunts to join him. Takefivet5@yahoo.com.
And it's sweet music to my ears, because THAT'S MY BOY! My No. 3 son, age 10, has joined the fifth-grade band to learn the saxophone.
I'm not sure why he picked the saxophone. I hope it's not because it's been called "The Devil's Horn." Or because it's been described as "an instrument of decadence and immorality." Or because it was once banned in Japan, and even "indicted" by a pope (Pope John Voigt II, I believe).
Most of all, I hope he didn't choose the sax just so he could give his neurotic father a bad earworm. You know, one of those songs that just plays over and over in your head. You know, one of those songs that just plays over and over in your—arrgghh! Sorry!
My earworm has nothing to do with what No. 3 plays on his sax. Instead, it's a song that contains the word "saxophone": the probably-too-obscure-for-most-readers-to-recognize "Deacon Blues," by Steely Dan. It contains this phrase "I'll learn to work the saxophone/I'll play just what I feel." (Eventually, the singer decides he wants to be nicknamed "Deacon Blues" because, you know, "they call Alabama the Crimson Tide." Don't ask me - this song came out in 1977, and I still don't get it.)
To drown out "Deacon Blues," I'm forcing my brain to "hear" the first tune that No. 3 ever played for me on his sax: "Hot Cross Buns." He was fiercely determined to show he could play it after only his second lesson. Unfortunately, he got perfectionistic about it, which led to some frustration: the notes for "Hot" and "Cross" came out fine, but he just couldn't stick the "Buns," which made him very hot and cross.
No. 3 is the first of my boys to take up a musical instrument. I'm not counting the ocarinas that my mother-in-law gave Nos. 3, 4 and 5 a couple summers ago. (Though they appeared harmless, the ocarinas were actually devices of cruel torture in the hands of three small boys, who tooted them tunelessly and endlessly until they were mysteriously stolen by, um, lemurs, I think it was. Yes, lemurs.)
Anyway, I warned No. 3 that he had inherited no musical genes from his parents - we don't have a musical bone in our bodies. He said of course we do: "Cavemen used to make a sort of xylophone from the ribcages of elders who had been mysteriously killed by, um, lemurs, I think it was. Yes, lemurs." Then he gave me a savage little wink.
No. 3 is learning his saxophone fundamentals from a book called "Learn to Play the Saxophone!," authored by a guy named Frederick Jacobs. Fred is one of those people you can Google until you severely sprain your MCL (Mouse Clicking Ligament) and still learn nothing about. Which makes me wonder if I should trust him with my child's sax education.
Fred's book contains dozens of tunes and snippets from great composers like Bach, Brahams, Beethoven, and Tchaikovsky. Their stuff is mixed in with timeless classics like "Hey Diddle Diddle," "Go Tell Aunt Rhodie," and "Grandma Grunts."
I can't wait to hear that one.
My favorite song in the book was written by the Finnish composer Jean Sibelius. It's my favorite because No. 3 always plays it at the end of his practice, so I know he's finally just about finnished.
# # #
O joy! Deacon Blues just paused to mention that he's settling into my brain for the winter - and he's invited Grandma Grunts to join him. Takefivet5@yahoo.com.
posted by Don Stuart at 10:37 AM
1 Comments:
Don,
Second cousin Kelly Thomas here from Tucson Arizona - of course, being a saxophone professor myself, I think it is GREAT that another member of the extended family is taking up the sax... far from being the 'Devil's Instrument', it is ONLY the most technologically advanced of the woodwinds, being the most recently invented (ca. 1842, patented 1846.) I wish him the best of luck!
I am thinking about doing some blogging myself, probably about my field, Music entrepreneurship... will let you know when I get it going!
Best, Kelly
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