We Still Remember

Where were you when you heard the news? (And it's odd to think that literally all of my public school students would have to say "not yet born." The current class of college juniors, including my oldest nephew, were infants at the time.)

Here's my story: I was on a break from teaching, like every Tuesday, and actually spent the time of the attacks in blissful ignorance at a nearby Starbucks. I had CD's on in my car instead of the radio, so I totally missed the news on both the way over and the way back. I did hear someone listening to a radio on the Starbucks patio and they were talking about "the second plane," but it didn't register with me at all. (It amazed me later that nobody walked inside and told us about it.)

When I got back to the school, the flute teacher stopped me in the hallway and asked me if all my students were being pulled out of school (evidently hers were). I said, "No, why?" and she told me what had happened. I spent the rest of the day like everyone else, in shocked, depressed amazement, catching the news when I could. There I was, not even two weeks into being a homeowner, and the world suddenly felt so different. It added to the pall cast over everything when I found out that the sister of a girl I graduated from high school with was on Flight 93, the one that crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. (I know that there have been quite a few lists of names read aloud today, so let me share hers: Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas. May she rest in peace...)

The whole thing felt so surreal; how could anyone hate us that much? The concept of the suicide hijacking was unprecedented as well (before that, hijackers just usually wanted to go to Cuba, and that's why airline personnel were taught to cooperate with them rather than try to subdue them).

I know there are still terrorist plots being hatched, and people capable of carrying them out...but I hope nothing like this ever happens on U.S. soil again. Or anywhere, for that matter.

As I often say on this day, I hope nobody tires of talking about this every once in a while, because if we stop talking, we might forget, and this is a day that need not be forgotten anytime soon.

We Still Remember

Where were you when you heard the news? (And it's odd to think that literally all of my public school students would have to say "not yet born," though I think my oldest senior turns 18 tomorrow. The current class of college freshmen were infants at the time.)

Here's my story: I was on a break from teaching, like every Tuesday, and actually spent the time of the attacks in blissful ignorance at a nearby Starbucks. I had CD's on in my car instead of the radio, so I totally missed the news on both the way over and the way back. I did hear someone listening to a radio on the Starbucks patio and they were talking about "the second plane," but it didn't register with me at all. (It amazed me later that nobody walked inside and told us about it.)

When I got back to the school, the flute teacher stopped me in the hallway and asked me if all my students were being pulled out of school (evidently hers were). I said, "No, why?" and she told me what had happened. I spent the rest of the day like everyone else, in shocked, depressed amazement, catching the news when I could. There I was, not even two weeks into being a homeowner, and the world suddenly felt so different. It added to the pall cast over everything when I found out that the sister of a girl I graduated from high school with was on Flight 93, the one that crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. (I know that there have been quite a few lists of names read aloud today, so let me share hers: Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas. May she rest in peace...)

The whole thing felt so surreal; how could anyone hate us that much? The concept of the suicide hijacking was unprecedented as well (before that, hijackers just usually wanted to go to Cuba, and that's why airline personnel were taught to cooperate with them rather than try to subdue them).

I know there are still terrorist plots being hatched, and people capable of carrying them out...but I hope nothing like this ever happens on U.S. soil again. Or anywhere, for that matter.

As I often say on this day, I hope nobody tires of talking about this every once in a while, because if we stop talking, we might forget, and this is a day that need not be forgotten anytime soon.

We Still Remember

Once again, the anniversary of 9/11 falls on a Tuesday. (I was also at the Starbucks mentioned in the story below just yesterday.)  Where were you when you heard the news?

Here's my story: I was on a break from teaching, like every Tuesday, and actually spent the time of the attacks in blissful ignorance at a nearby Starbucks. I had CD's on in my car instead of the radio, so I totally missed the news on both the way over and the way back. I did hear someone listening to a radio on the Starbucks patio and they were talking about "the second plane," but it didn't register with me at all. (It amazed me later that nobody walked inside and told us about it.)

When I got back to the school, the flute teacher stopped me in the hallway and asked me if all my students were being pulled out of school (evidently hers were). I said, "No, why?" and she told me what had happened. I spent the rest of the day like everyone else, in shocked, depressed amazement, catching the news when I could. There I was, not even two weeks into being a homeowner, and the world suddenly felt so different. It added to the pall cast over everything when I found out that the sister of a girl I graduated from high school with was on Flight 93, the one that crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. (I know that there have been quite a few lists of names read aloud today, so let me share hers: Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas. May she rest in peace...)

The whole thing felt so surreal; how could anyone hate us that much? The concept of the suicide hijacking was unprecedented as well (before that, hijackers just usually wanted to go to Cuba, and that's why airline personnel were taught to cooperate with them rather than try to subdue them).

I know there are still terrorist plots being hatched, and people capable of carrying them out...but I hope nothing like this ever happens on U.S. soil again. Or anywhere, for that matter.

As I often say on this day, I hope nobody tires of talking about this every once in a while, because if we stop talking, we might forget, and this is a day that need not be forgotten anytime soon.

Kids Say the Darnedest Things About Their Families

From last week, when I was seeing everyone for the first time after a week off...

KID: I have to tell you, I didn’t get to practice very much since the last time I saw you.
ME: Oh yeah? So you had a busy Thanksgiving?
KID: Yeah, my two cousins got married.
ME: (ponders that for a second)
KID: Not to each other.
ME: That’s good to hear.

Teachers Say the Darnedest Things When Their Students Make Mistakes

A kid earlier today was playing a passage marked “legato,” and I was curious as to whether he knew the definition...

ME: So what does this term mean?
KID: Legato.
ME: Yes, the word is “legato,” but do you know what it means?
KID (hesitates): I can’t remember.
ME: So you forgotto?

Just Curious...

Is today the day they get free Slurpees in Europe? They do write the date as 7/11, after all.

Let's Talk Baseball for a Minute

I grew up as an Astros fan, seeing lots of games at the ‘Dome with my dad. Even as I moved to DFW for college and stayed here, I still supported my old team, cheering them on against everyone but my Rangers (which was easy when they were still in the NL).

When the Astros moved to not only the AL, but the AL West, things changed a bit. It was really weird being at Minute Maid in the summer of ‘16, with Dad and me rooting for opposite teams. But I’ve spent far more years in DFW than I did in Houston, and I’m totally invested in the Rangers.

Still, I was all in for the Astros during this Series. I supported them for Dad, as a tribute to my childhood, and to support the city where I spent my formative years—a city that really needed a lift this fall.

Am I bummed that the Astros took home a championship before my Rangers did? Sure. Will I resume rooting for the Rangers to whomp the Astros at every opportunity once next season starts? You bet! But tonight, I celebrate with my hometown and its fans, and lots of other Texans. And I already can’t wait for next baseball season to start.

Kids Say the Darnedest Things About Instruments They Don't Recognize.

Kids say the darnedest things about instruments they don’t recognize. Earlier today at a middle school, a kid picks up a horn in its case that’s been left on the floor in the percussion area...

KID: Whose French horn is this?
(I look over and notice that the kid is in fact carrying a trombone.)
KID #2: That’s not a French horn!
KID #3: Yeah, that’s a trumpet!
(I’d like to think that Kid #3 actually knew what it was and was just messing with the first kid.)

A Smal Bit of Music Humor

I’ve been eating my Thursday lunch at Taco Bueno the past few weeks. Last week, the piped-in music was cutting in and out so much that they finally just turned it off (right before I was about to ask them to do so myself). This week, the music was evidently still not working, so I ate my meal in complete silence.

My order number for this silent lunch? 433.

KIds Say the Darnedest Things When They're Just Getting Started

A beginner in his first lesson had this to say as we were finishing up...

KID: I don't know why, but I get a whole lot of enjoyment from pushing this button. (It was the G key, if you're curious.)
ME: Well, if that's the case, you'll really enjoy the saxophone in general, because you get to use that key a lot.

We Still Remember

My remembrances of this day in 2001, first published two years after the fact (in the first year of this blog), and only edited slightly since then: Here's my story: I was on a break from teaching, like every Tuesday, and actually spent the time of the attacks in blissful ignorance at a nearby Starbucks. I had CD's on in my car instead of the radio, so I totally missed the news on both the way over and the way back. I did hear someone listening to a radio on the Starbucks patio and they were talking about "the second plane," but it didn't register with me at all. (It amazed me later that nobody walked inside and told us about it.) When I got back to the school, the flute teacher stopped me in the hallway and asked me if all my students were being pulled out of school (evidently hers were). I said, "No, why?" and she told me what had happened. I spent the rest of the day like everyone else, in shocked, depressed amazement, catching the news when I could. There I was, not even two weeks into being a homeowner, and the world suddenly felt so different. It added to the pall cast over everything when I found out that the sister of a girl I graduated from high school with was on Flight 93, the one that crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. (I know that there have been quite a few lists of names read aloud today, so let me share hers: Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas. May she rest in peace...) The whole thing felt so surreal; how could anyone hate us that much? The concept of the suicide hijacking was unprecedented as well (before that, hijackers just usually wanted to go to Cuba, and that's why airline personnel were taught to cooperate with them rather than try to subdue them). I know there are still terrorist plots being hatched, and people capable of carrying them out...but I hope nothing like this ever happens on U.S. soil again. Or anywhere, for that matter. As I said a year ago, I hope nobody tires of talking about this every once in a while, because if we stop talking, we might forget, and this is a day that need not be forgotten anytime soon.

Kids Say the Darnedest Things About Their Abilities

On the last day of sectionals earlier this week, I had everyone play at least four bars of one of the All-Region etudes for the group. Part of it went like this: KID #1: I will play the first four bars of Etude 2. (does so) KID #2: I'm gonna play the exact same thing he did, but worse. (does so)

Kids Say the Darnedest Things About Musical Interpretation

During my recent sectionals, I was talking about the "artistic" way to do a trill on a long note--starting gradually rather than going full speed, since doing the latter in a slow piece often sounds overly aggressive, or even angry... ME: And there's nothing even remotely angry about this piece. If anything, it's a love song. KID #1: Eww! Why does it have to be a love song? I hate love songs! ME (somewhat surprised): Well, it doesn't have to be a love song. If you want, just think of it as a beautiful walk in the park. KID #2: I hate the park!

Kids Say the Darnedest Things at the End of Sectionals

At the end of a week and a half of sectionals for a couple of high schools, I always do the quick plug for lessons at the end... ME: So before we finish up, here's the quick "commercial." KID: So this means that the free trial period has ended, and now we have to pay?

Kids Also Wear the Darnedest Things

Many ensembles dress alike for State; here comes one now... First kid: All black Second kid: All black Third kid: All black Fourth kid: All black, except for powder-blue shoes and white socks (and pants that are high-water enough to make the latter really obvious)

Kids Say the Darnedest Things at State Solo & Ensemble

Overheard earlier today: KID 1: Yeah, I probably got a 3 if the judge has mercy, or a 4 otherwise. KID 2: Oh, it wasn't really that bad. KID 1: I totally messed up! KID 2: Nah, you just forgot an entire repeated section, but other than that...

An Apt Quote for Today

One of the better quotes I saw today among all the Chris Cornell tributes: "If I write a song and put it out there, it's not mine anymore," [Cornell] told CNN. "It takes on a life of its own, and when you listen to it, it becomes your song. And over the course of generations, those meanings will change." RIP, Chris. (And yes, Soundgarden was one of the bands I got to see live that some people might not have expected, even if they didn't make the "ten bands I've seen, one is a lie" thing a few weeks ago.)

Kids (and Their Teacher) Have the Darnedest Fixes for Rehearsal Problems

So the power goes out in the practice wing during quartet rehearsal? No problem; five cell phone flashlights illuminate the room just fine.‬

Auto-Correct Says the Darnedest Things

I was typing a chord progression into my phone's notepad to remember it for later, and every time I tried to type "Eb," auto-correct tried to change it to "zen." Has anybody out there ever had a particularly Zen moment related to the playing of an Eb?

This Could Have Been an Alarming Development

I was surprised to wake up to Clock #2 this morning, which is set for four minutes after (and located on the opposite side of the room from) Clock #1. I wondered if I forgot to set the latter, but...nope, it was flashing 2:53, which means 1) the power went out at least briefly during the storm, and 2) the backup battery finally gave its last after years of service. (And that, my friends, is why I have a Clock #2 in the first place.)