Clarinet for one year, then I was placed on the Bass Clarinet.
Then when we got to marching season, I switched to the Marimba (<a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marimba>for the people who don't know what it is). I apparently caught on extremely quickly, or so the percussion director told me. But, of course, it was like everything else. I caught on very quickly and advance almost immediately up to an average level, but wasn't able to improve much. I wasn't able to handle the fucking 32nd note runs, so I switched to auxiliary percussion for the remainder of marching season. It was really cool. I had a hi-hat, a splash symbol, a gong, a piece of a car (something to do with brakes), a suspended symbol, and wind chimes. And they were all mine. I felt so cool.
But then I revolted against the administrative band director, for being a dictatorial asshole, and was barred from touching any of his instruments ever again. (I never destroyed anything, just so you know.) He was taking us out of normal classes regularly so we could rehearse more, having us stay at school 'till ten o' clock at night regularly to rehearse, making us come to school two hours early to rehearse, making us rehearse at 20 degrees Fahrenheit, not giving anyone enough time to change clothes for the rest of the day (so band members had to go through the schoolday smelling like a sack of sweat), and making people who came in late run a lap for each minute, and making people who missed steps or notes run laps, or making people who claimed to disagree with his jackassery run laps. His solution to "my keys are frozen in place" was "if you keep playing, they won't freeze, now run two laps and get back into the block."
I hated him, and now he hates me. A lot. On both sides.
Then when we got to marching season, I switched to the Marimba (<a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marimba>for the people who don't know what it is). I apparently caught on extremely quickly, or so the percussion director told me. But, of course, it was like everything else. I caught on very quickly and advance almost immediately up to an average level, but wasn't able to improve much. I wasn't able to handle the fucking 32nd note runs, so I switched to auxiliary percussion for the remainder of marching season. It was really cool. I had a hi-hat, a splash symbol, a gong, a piece of a car (something to do with brakes), a suspended symbol, and wind chimes. And they were all mine. I felt so cool.
But then I revolted against the administrative band director, for being a dictatorial asshole, and was barred from touching any of his instruments ever again. (I never destroyed anything, just so you know.) He was taking us out of normal classes regularly so we could rehearse more, having us stay at school 'till ten o' clock at night regularly to rehearse, making us come to school two hours early to rehearse, making us rehearse at 20 degrees Fahrenheit, not giving anyone enough time to change clothes for the rest of the day (so band members had to go through the schoolday smelling like a sack of sweat), and making people who came in late run a lap for each minute, and making people who missed steps or notes run laps, or making people who claimed to disagree with his jackassery run laps. His solution to "my keys are frozen in place" was "if you keep playing, they won't freeze, now run two laps and get back into the block."
I hated him, and now he hates me. A lot. On both sides.