Have to start somewhere
A long time ago, I played tuba. By default, I made a lot of noise…
Over time, I lost my embouchure (in reality, I left the warm, fuzzy embrace of the music department and returned my/their instrument which I couldn’t really call MY OWN).
Quiet time ensued.
Now it’s time to waken the quiet giant sleeping inside me. My blog will trumpet (tuba) to the world.
CHAPTER 2
Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here is a shiny copy of that tuba from long ago:
At least, I remember it as being that shiny. No tarnish around the body from sweaty fingers holding tightly during practice. No dents from failure to navigate the twisty maze of little passages leading from the instrument lockers to the practice rooms. No other faults or flaws or blemishes; memories are perfectionist by definition.
