He’s with the band

He's with the band {Heather's Handmade Life}
I was never what you’d call musically talented and I’m almost certainly tone deaf, but I still really enjoyed my three years of junior high band. Well, everything except the itchy, royal blue and yellow polyester band sweaters that I can still feel on my skin all these years later.

I played percussion, which meant I got to learn the snare drum, bass drum, tympanies, bells (xylophones), triangle, wind chimes, tambourine, maracas, shakers, crash symbols — all of the fun stuff.

I liked the variety of learning different instruments. Percussionists were often envied because we got to whisk around in the back, moving from drumsticks to mallets during a single song, while the rest of the musicians were stuck in their chairs.

When I heard our children’s school starts a beginner band program in Grade 3, it brought back so many fond band memories, like smashing the bass drum as hard as I could — in front of the whole school — for the 21-gun salute on Remembrance Day. (Mr. Cormier swore I wouldn’t break it and he was right.)

It also brought up the embarrassing memory of playing the bass drum in a skirt at the Nova Scotia Kiwanis Music Festival, with one leg hiked up to support the drum, trying to angle myself so I wouldn’t flash my underwear to the audience.

Was our son ready for band? I only started percussion when I was in Grade 7, so eight years old felt young to be learning an instrument. But our son has always had natural talent in music — at least, according to his report cards — so he was eager to sign up …

He's with the band {Heather's Handmade Life}

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