I'm not sure if I picked the saxophone or if they needed more woodwinds but that's what I ended up with.
Ah, the tenor sax. No girly alto for me; I was all about the tenor.
Well, it turns out it wasn't a tenor after all. If I remember correctly, it was my band instructor, Larry Frank, that discovered my parents had, instead, purchased a C-melody saxophone.
Now what? Well, Larry got music written for a C-melody and off we went. Somewhere along the line, I got a real tenor.
He was an amazing teacher. If you were having a problem with your part, he'd come over and whip the thing out of your mouth and play your part for you. And then . . . give it back to you. I don't remember being totally grossed out by the fact that I now had to play it but what choice did we have back then? Handi-whipes hadn't been invented yet.
We started practicing for the fair parade (mid Sept.) in the heat of the summer. He was relentless and we kicked ass.
I didn't play my sax all the way through school. I think I made it through my sophomore year and then gave it up for cheerleading. I think a choice had to be made because, at that time anyway, you couldn't cheer and perform with the band during half-time. That part is a little hazy but the end result is that I didn't graduate with sax hanging from my neck.
What an education, though. It gave me an appreciation for music, I learned how to read music and learned how to march in a straight line. That's a skill that has come in handy on more than one occasion. Don't ask.