"The Saxophone and the Sunglasses"---a mostly true story

The Saxophone and The Sunglasses

Some of you have kindly written wondering where my old dark blue 1989 Lincoln Towncar is. Well, it is still running. My oldest daughter, who always dreamed of owning a Honda is driving the Lincoln "ghetto cruiser" and fitting it into the parking spots in Madison designed for a Honda. Anyway, recently, I got to sit in the car and think of the good old days, and I flipped down the visor and tons of Cd's fell in my lap. Quickly, I inserted some in the CD player, desperately looking for some rock and roll. No, they were all Blues, Jazz and hip hop. Worse, most were in Italian. " When did this all begin?" I mused. Then I remembered about the Saxophone and the Sunglasses.

One Sunday night when my oldest was a sophmore at EHS, I overheard a stressful discussion in the kitchen, and as I usually did, I walked right into it. " What's the problem," I asked. " Well," she replied, " tomorrow is the first Jazz Band practice." "So, what?" I ventured. "Well," " I don't have a saxophone and don't know how to play it since I play flute."

" Just ask Mr. Z," I said, "and if he says you can play sax, I will go get the sax at Ward Brodt. Call me at lunch and leave me a message. On monday, there was a short, breathless message on the recorder. " Go get the sax!"

That afternoon both girls came home from school and were giggling and excited. I had to ask, " Well what happened?" "Oh," the oldest said, Mr. Z said to come tonight and just fake it and then gradually play what I felt comfortable with." It's going to be no problem, I can fake it fine."

What followed was the most intense three weeks of learning ever in our home. Scales, swearing, broken reeds, trips to the music store for riff books, arguments about why it is important to stop playing at midnight so the old folks can sleep. After three weeks of almost no sleep for us, the playing sounded pretty darn good. She said, " Well, I need to go to Janesville!" " What ever for?" I asked. "The Sunglasses", she replied. I did understand. If you play the sax, you need the approved style of sunglasses.

As I sat in the old blue Lincoln with the lap full of jazz cds, I thought of what had happened because of that one open door, that one moment when a musical passion had been ignited because the maestro had opened the door to a lifelong obsession.

If you do make a contribution to the instrument fund at EHS,( EHS musical inst fund, attn Mr. Z) you might consider that it is not the instrument you are giving, but the entrance ticket for a lifelong passion for music. If you were present at the "Good Question" gig at "Real Coffee" recently, you got an idea of how much fun this can be.