I've always enjoyed music. From as far back as I can recall, there was music in my life. I was raised in a family where music was a part of our daily routine. The family piano may have been the catalyst which fueled the passion in my siblings, and myself, and helped to embed a lifelong appreciation for any harmonious collection of notes and lyrics.
I vividly remember many of my childhood years —from the mid 60s to the early 70s— stumbling through song after song on my trumpet. The venue most commonly was my father's television repair shop, and it usually included my background accompaniment; a state-of-the-art high fidelity stereo record player, a Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass album, and of course, my father.
Dad enjoyed my feeble attempt at mimicking Mr. Alpert, and there is little doubt in my mind that I felt as though I was the next best thing to him. But that was then, and as time marches on, all good things come to an end. I sold my trumpet the year that I graduated from high school.
My interest in this writing is more about pleasing myself, than the reader. Selfish, but so it is. I seem to have a strong and necessary desire to put my thoughts on paper. Music, although always an important part of my life, has now evolved into something more. As quickly as an uncontrollable disease can take over and consume a human body, music, without warning, has perforated my human shell, and like a fiery molten lava, traveled through my internal passageways, arriving neatly into every single cell —and in tune.
It wasn't until August of 2011 that I was reunited with that simple piece of brass plumbing, commonly referred to as a trumpet. Interestingly enough, I still had a passion for that particular brass instrument —although not my personal horn from the 70s.
Enough said about trumpets, brass and the 70s. Let's talk about how this music thing, this disease I have acquired, has affected my inner self.
I'll make a simple statement that may explain what I feel today, regarding my involvement in the music and entertainment business. Taking the chance that this may seem strange to you, I'll relate this new found career to my past career of 30 years; law enforcement.
Here is my simple statement —To fully understand something, you have to live it.
Although retired from the badge for seven years, there is still a love for the police profession along with a protective instinct that manifests itself within the deepest corridor of my prefrontal cortex. Simply stated, if you are of the type who tends to ridicule, second guess, dis or badmouth the police, you are not a friend of mine. Ask any of those whom have posted negative police comments on any of my social networking forums and you'll find that they were once friends of mine. Key words "were once", relatives included. Consider also, my wife's profession as a kindergarten teacher. Often is the time that she hears of how "fun" her job must be, totally discounting the fact that she spends hundreds of hours with a small tribe of five year old "cute" children. Cute children that she has the responsibility of teaching to read, write, solve math problems, prepare for passing mandated state testing, teach basic computer skills, ad infinitum. Kindergarten isn't what it once was folks. It's oh so easy to do a job, when you don't have that job. Back to music.
Until I started playing and performing, I was simply a spectator. I had a love for music and as Patti (Mrs. Xavier) frequently states, when talking about my music, "he always had (has) music playing of one genre or another." But again, I was only a spectator. I didn't realize what music truly was about. Certainly over the years, I had songs I liked, artists I liked and those that didn't interest me. But now, I look and listen with a keen ear. An ear I have always had, but the skills of which, I hadn't honed. Until now.
Spending a typical day for me includes not only playing and practicing my brass contraption of a musical instrument, but also listening intently and analyzing song after song. Listening to a variety of artists, song writers and singers, and often times mimicking their voice —or trying desperately to mimic— by way of my horn. As a young boy may dissect any small creature, I dissect each song, often times note by note. My horn is my voice.
I have learned to love music in a totally different way than ever before. I listen intently with these same two ears, but in a different manner, and for different reasons. I analyze songs, piece by piece. So much work, and so much effort has been put forth by so many singers and musicians that at times it just seems unbelievable to me. All of this studying, practicing and effort on my part has enabled me to view the world of music on a different level, a different playing field. I know instantly, when listening to a song now, if it would make for a good instrumental (horn) song for me. I usually can tell the difficulty level of that song long before attempting to make it my own.
I'm thrilled, as you the reader have probably surmised, at my newest of ambitions. The world of music consumes me...always. Nary a moment goes by when I am not feeling a song deep in my soul or in that prefrontal cortex I mentioned previously.
Should I have pursued a career in music back in the 70s rather than that as a uniformed officer? My answer is, "probably not." I enjoyed a really good career and totally enjoyed my accomplishments over that span of years serving and protecting. The money and benefits made for a comfortable living too. Today, I enjoy reflecting on those times now and then, in between songs that I perform for those willing to listen to me.
~Safe Living~
-The Chief
http://bornagainbrass.com/
