The Accidental Trumpet Player

For those of you that know me, music makes up a lot of my life.  It all started when my mom "forced" me to take piano lessons at the ripe old age of five.  We were living in the Philippines at the time (my dad was stationed in Subic Bay) and so I had the neat opportunity to be taught by the same lady that taught my mom when she was a little.

I remembered that first day when this elderly lady came to the house.  I was still a little defiant at the notion that I had to take piano lessons.  While they were at the dining table catching up on old times, I hopped onto the piano bench and started playing the piano like a pro, or so I thought.  After playing a few licks, I would run up to them and say "See, I already know I how to play the piano" and then run back to the piano to play more of my well thought-out musical phrases.  Needless to say, I was stuck taking piano lessons.  And that decision started the musical tapestry that has and still is being weaved in my life.

I am thankful that my mom gave me the opportunity to learn a musical instrument at an early age.  

So where does the accidental trumpet player come in?  Let's fast forward to 5th grade, in Jacksonville, FL.  One Saturday November afternoon , my mom took my brother and me to lunch at the Burger King adjacent to the local high school near our neighborhood (Nathan B. Forrest High School).  There was an unusual hustle and bustle at the restaurant, with a lot of teenagers and parents coming in from next door.  

"There must be a football game" we decided, after which my brother and I begged my mom to go watch the football game.  My mom was curious as well.  She didn't think twice about our request.  Before we knew it, we were settled into one of the concrete rows in the football stadium.

A marching band was about to enter the field.   "Great!!  It must be halftime.  Once they are done, then we'll be able to watch the football game."  After their performance, another marching band came on to perform.  "OK...this must be the opposing team's band.  This should finish halftime.  I can't wait to see the football game."

And then another marching band came on the field..."What is going on?"

And then another marching band...

And still another one came on after that one.  

We were slowly assimilating the event that was going on before us.  If you haven't guessed it by now, what we thought was a football game, ended up being a marching band competition that the high school was hosting.  

I am glad that collectively, my family did not know that high school football generally isn't played on a Saturday. ;-)

I don't remember being disappointed that no football was to be played.  I do remember being fascinated by the pageantry of the marching band presentation.  As I was looking at the different formations, instruments, color guard, I remembered fixating myself on those silver trumpets.  I've never seen one before.  I thought they were all those brass color.  I noticed that the trumpet player usually played a solo as well during their performance.  They were usually louder than the other instruments.  And I loved how some of them can hit those high notes that just penetrated the air.

As the competition continued throughout the rest of the afternoon, I finally told my mom that I wanted to learn how to play the trumpet.  

And that's how I became the accidental trumpet player.