
The skinny, blonde guy in the middle is my dad. Every year at Christmas time Dad would play Tchaikovsky with the orchestra while ballerinas danced on the stage above. We would hear a horn solo and turn to my mom-- "is that dad??" And it usually was.
He is a musician. In the same way someone is a doctor or a painter. It's almost like there is an extra entity that lives inside of them that makes them who they are. I can't imagine him without it.
When we were little he would turn on the radio to the classical station and quiz us on composers. "Who does this sound like?"
He always guessed last because it would have been a dead giveaway. I can't remember him ever being wrong.
During the years he was playing in the symphony it was not uncommon to fall asleep to the faint sounds of the French Horn coming from the garage. The "practice room," as it was. Now if I hear music that contains a French Horn part, I can always pick it out. It's become a familiar voice in my brain. That particular instrument is directly connected to my dad. I'm sure it will always be that way. When I'm 90 years old and decide to turn on a little Holst's "Venus, the Bringer of Peace," I'll still think of him.
Today is his birthday, and I was thinking. Of all the things my dad has given me, the exposure to and the love of music is one that I will always be especially grateful for.
6 comments:
AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaa-Men! Nice post, lady. Happy burfdee, Pappy.
That was a very beautiful posting. Your parents are amazing people and I have always been in awe of their talents. Well written!! P.S. I'm calling you this weekend!!!!!!!! It's been too long since we talked!! :)
The bearded guy second from left is the late Dr Winter... his jedi horn teacher.
Not too long ago I saw dad play with a symphony, some random one-time gig he got hired to do. He sat with me in the audience before their orchestra went on. He said he was playing the Wagner horn. I asked him if he knew how to play it and he said he thought so but not really. It's on his resume, he was hired to play it so he thought he better put his money where his mouth is. The orchestra went on, dad's solo came up and it was the most beautiful, smooth and serene sound. He nailed it. And I was like, dude... Dad is a freaking genius.
That is so Dad! He thinks maybe he can play a different horn, hasn't played it in over a decade, didn't bother to rehearse because chances are he's picking grapes or something else for the church, and then he plops down at a performance and bangs it out in mad style. No pretense, or guile. Just a natural. I love that guy.
When the MoTab sang A Child's Prayer at General Conference I immediately thought of your dad. I can remember him singing the second verse in Sacrament meeting for the primary program. You do have quite a great dad.
Yep...your dad is one treasure of a man! And...perfectly gifted!
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