My Prized Possession

Two weeks to the Brahms concert, and then I can stop listening to the recording every stinking day, and I can take the "currently listening to" picture off the side bar. I'm getting a little tired of seeing that every time I sign on, but it serves as a reminder to not be lax with the practicing. Not that I need much of a reminder. Here's an excerpt from an e-mail we all received from the conductor yesterday: (If he was aware of my obsessive/compulsive nature, he'd know it's unnecessary to tell me this):

Become really familiar with the whole piece by listening to a recording until you reach a saturation level! In the car, in the livingroom, the kitchen, the shower, wherever - live with this music for the next few weeks. Pretty please? Thanks!

I went to Sunday school yesterday--we have a great teacher at our church, one of the few things about my church that I really, truly appreciate. This teacher is humble and smart and funny all at the same time--rare qualities to be found in one single person.

Anyway, yesterday this teacher asked for a list of things we would be devastated by if we lost. Of course, the first thing shouted out was family. I think health came next, or something like it. I knew this list would keep growing with things that people knew they should say, but all I could really think of was my horn, because of course I'd be devastated if I lost my family and friends and home and health. Why do I even need to say that? So, I said "my French horn." Teacher wrote it on the board with the rest of the "stuff," and for a second I felt shallow, unChristianlike, heathen. But I'm not any of those things. I really would be devastated if I lost my horn. I love my horn. I love playing my horn in the orchestra. I love playing it in the band every summer. I love the feel and weight of it when I hold it to play. I love the way the bell shines on those rare times when I take the time to clean it. I love that my teacher can see improvement between lessons.

And I'm not sorry.

Later the Teacher talked about other things we cling to, like position in society and passions, suggesting that hanging on to anything too much takes you down the wrong road. I suppose. But then again, I went back to my horn, which is part of my position in society and is the center of my passion--it's not just a bunch of coiled up brass with a screw bell. After class, I talked to the Teacher's wife all about my reasoning for listing my material possession among the other things the Teacher was probably expecting, and she knew exactly what I meant. She's a vocal soloist (an incredibly talented one), and a piano teacher, and the manager of the orchestra I cling to.

So, I'm going to pack up my prized possession and listen to Brahms one more time. And if there were a fire in my house, you can bet I'd grab my horn before any stupid photo album.