I played in the school band until the ninth grade. I liked it. I started out on tenor sax because that’s all the music store had to rent. I was maybe 8 and the damn thing was as big as me. I liked learning how to play it, but I hated carrying it to and from school. I liked the horn my friend played. He played trumpet…much handier.

My family moved and I started at a new school in the fifth grade and we had to go get a different instrument. My dad was making more money I guess and it was decided we could buy an instrument for me now. I told my dad I wanted to play trumpet. A trumpet was cheaper than a tenor sax and so much smaller and lighter.

And I liked the trumpet. It was easier to care for, just a little machine oil here and there, and a rag and polish to shine it up. And it was much lighter. And Herp Alpert played one and he had the sexiest album cover in history. I was into the trumpet.

I had to move again the next year to a new school, (Air Force Brats move a lot). So, I got another new band teacher/conductor/. And out of the three different band teachers I had until then, the new one in sixth grade was the best. He actually helped, he made playing music fun, and we even played some contemporary tunes instead of the standard band marches and kiddie tunes. Sixth grade was my best music year so far. I was really looking forward to seventh-grade music. The Junior High I was going to had an award-winning band and was very well respected in band circles for the Denver area.

I had always been first chair, but when I got to my first band class in seventh grade, there were two kids who were exceptionally good. The only problem was the award-winning band teacher from before had retired or got a new job or something so we had a brand new band teacher. He was young, loud, authoritative, and a perfectionist.

He was most of all, an asshole and a bully. In today’s world he would not have a job teaching kids, most likely he would be in jail. He was liberal with his use of the profane, he belittled kids on a regular basis, threatened us, and vowed we would, at all costs, be an award-winning band just like the last teacher led.

I was usually third chair trumpet, occasionally I would do better for a week or two and move to second chair.  But the two other guys were extremely talented and driven, I, on the other hand, liked girls a lot, like playing guitar a lot, and liked screwing off a lot.

Mr. Jackass, (I have no idea what the asshole’s name was) also used to throw his baton at screw-ups. A wrong note, a mistimed note, a squeak from a woodwind, or a cymbal in the wrong spot would result in a sling of his baton at the offender. And usually he hit the instrument, he was that good, but sometimes it hit a kid and made them cry. Talk about “gonna put an eye out with that thing.” Every kid in the band had their time, some had many, I had a few. But trumpets were close to the front and easy to hit, and a trumpet is fairly small, (one of the very reasons I played it) so offered little protection from slung batons.

We had a baritone sitting in the back of the room, no one played it. I found out that in the set-up if someone played baritone, they would be seated in the back near the drummers, light-years from the front and the deadly baton chucker. I pumped myself up one morning before band, and scrunched up enough courage to ask if I could be the baritone player.

And then, I was at the back of the room! And I could ride on a bus to school now and carrying it home and back would be at least bearable. And the way you play the thing leaves the player completely shielded from flying missiles. It covered you up. I was safe.

He still would ring my bell once in a while, but I never got hit. We didn’t win an award that year. We did okay but we were decidedly second best though the two trumpet players won awards individually. I don’t know if Mr. Jackass continued on at East Junior High. It was time for me to move again.

That ended my school band career, and I got rid of my trumpet to get a new guitar. It was rock n roll and bluegrass for me from then on. At least there are no batons in bluegrass