This is my fourth attempt at writing something about getting back into music with The Lexington Singers. If this doesn’t work, I’m going to have to take a Viagra.
Friends, I am having trouble saying how much it has meant to me to start making music with you again. Maybe it’s just enough to say that I was worried that I wasn’t going to be good enough, or as good as I once was, but through the magical process of associating with people who are better than me at it, I somehow elevated myself.
I really do cherish the friends I have made through music, old and new, those still with us and those who have gone to the hereafter. It’s wonderful when you can pick up where you left off with people, as if no time had passed at all.
And — I can’t emphasize this enough — it’s a lot of fun to be silly with other grown adults.
This was going to be a lot longer, but I cut out probably 70 percent of what I had originally written. It was mostly autobiographical and wholly self-serving. For those of you who are interested, here are a few pieces from the cutting room floor.
- My first love affair was with music (except for an imaginary one with Princess Leia), and it started when I first heard my mother play her upright piano. I remember a lot of piano reductions of Strauss waltzes.
- If you forget, for a moment, that I have made less than $300 in my lifetime for performing music, it has been the longest career I’ve ever had.
- The hardest pieces of music I’ve ever performed have been (wind ensemble) two pieces by Frank Zappa, of which I can’t remember the titles and (choral) Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms, Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms, and newly arrived on that list Britten’s War Requiem.
- No bassoonist ever complained about contracting a social disease.
So, it’s been real. And it’s been fun. And it’s been real fun. Can’t wait for next semester.