Silver Dollar Clarinets

When I was in sixth grade, I joined the band at my elementary school.  I had always wanted to play the saxophone, and that’s what I requested when it was my turn to pick an instrument.  But the teacher had other ideas (or maybe he just had it out for me), and he stuck me on the clarinet instead.  His rational was that if I could master the clarinet, then I’d easily pick up the saxophone, but nobody starts on the saxophone.  Which lasted all of 30 seconds until he got to the next guy in line.  That guy also picked the saxophone, and the teacher was actually delighted as he said, “Good choice!”  Needless to say, I really hated that teacher, an animosity that only grew with time, but that’s not what this story is about. 

Despite this somewhat un-ideal beginning to my music career, I embraced the clarinet.  I was determined to be the best clarinet player the world had ever seen.  So, I practiced constantly.  In fact, I was actually quite good.  It seemed to come naturally to me.  I won awards.  I played in the concert band.  I was a fiend on that wooden tube!

The coolest part of playing an instrument, though, was when my grandmother would come over to the house and request a recital.  I would get out my black and silver clarinet and play her the most complicated things I could manage.  At the end, she would always applaud, tell me what a great job I had done, and then hand me a silver dollar.  I’m not sure why silver dollars, but it was always the same routine.  I guess she would stop by the bank sometime during the week in anticipation of getting to hear me play.  I never really appreciated how supportive she was of me at the time; but to this day, I still have every one of those silver dollars.