Meet my Papaw, Jack. He passed away in February. My great uncle sent this picture to my mom, who forwarded it on to me. I remember this ... he was playing The Fiddler in a county playhouse production of Fiddler on the Roof. He could play anything, anything ... all string instruments, all brass instruments (although no woodwind -- every man has his limitations, I guess). He even played tuba in the Salvation Army Band, and played bass in a dance band even following numerous strokes. How awesome is that?In fact, everyone on my mom's side of the family is musically inclined -- save one uncle and myself. (My aunt even has her doctorate in musicology and teaches at the University of Hawaii at Manoa. Whoa.) I tried -- hell, I lugged an effing French horn around for THREE YEARS in elementary school and took piano lessons for one year. That was, until my instructors, band director and parents discovered I couldn't read music. Not one note. What a letdown I was to my family, eh?
So ended my dream to sing in musical theater. Ah, what could have been ... I still secretly screetch the soundtrack to RENT in my car. I'm still Maureen in my own mind.
2 comments:
Awww, your grandpa sounds like my Ed. It annoys me that the man has perfect pitch and does not read music but plays stuff brilliantly by ear.
Me? 8 years of choir, 3 years of voice and piano and I struggle with my bad wrists at the keyboard. At least I've got a voice.
Must check out this Rent! For a soon to be technical theatre graduate, I am hopelessly lost on the current shows.
Very sweet post. I tend to cry when Papaw's are mentioned, in case you didn't know.
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