The Sound of Music and/ or Muzak

We're a pretty musical family. In elementary school, I played the acoustic guitar. When it was time to pick electives for junior high, I wanted to be part of a group, but I couldn't figure out where my guitar would fit in. I knew orchestras had violins and cellos and such and definitely wouldn't have guitars, so I went with band, figuring that lots of bands had guitar players.

PSYCH!

I found out on instrument selection night that this wasn't that kind of band, and wound up with the clarinet, which became my passion for the next eight years or so. The kids' dad has a great singing voice and took the choir route. So, a love of music definitely is in their DNA.

The kids are taking their own paths through music. This summer, those paths are getting more tangled than ever.

*Specifically: "You're barreling down the road in a metal box

and other people are barreling down the road in their metal

boxes and IF YOU MAKE A MISTAKE, YOU DIE!"

Eleanor, the over-achiever of the bunch, is taking three separate kinds of private lessons each week. Wednesdays are voice lessons. Her voice teacher lives fairly close by, so we're combining those with another very important lesson: driving lessons.

She got her permit over a year ago, but has refused to drive since last summer, being both risk averse and a teensy bit melodramatic.*

Why has she suddenly renewed her interest in driving? Is it the realization of how difficult it is to meet up with friends during the summer when none of you drive? Is it the desire for independence and freedom? Was it that time at dinner when I mentioned, casually, that her little brother would be eligible for a learner's permit in December? I haven't wanted to explore the issue; I'm just glad she's willing to get back out on the road. Voice lessons were an easy start, involving nothing more exciting than the occasional irritated honking of other drivers a tad impatient with Eleanor's desire not to get in a wreck as manifested by driving 10 mph under any given speed limit. This weekend we moved it up to Target, again with no freeways (just feeders). She even managed a perfect parking job.

This week, we'll progress to driving to piano lessons on Thursdays. Yep, piano. She's been wanting to learn for years, and since her current plan is to major in vocal performance, she'll have to learn eventually. Both music theory and piano are supposedly much harder when you take them for the first time in college, so it makes sense. We picked her favorite of the half dozen or so accompanists she's had this year. She is learning from an adult beginner book and is already halfway through it.

The beginner songs all have somewhat whimsical titles ("Popcorn" to teach staccato and "Cat Party" to teach random destructiveness and/or hairballs). For added fun, it comes with a karaoke track of the kind of muzak that would make a free phone game blush. She practices for hours, perhaps under the theory that the faster she gets through Book 1, the faster she can move from muzak to music.

Viola lessons are generally on Sundays. She and Bruce share a viola teacher, and lessons always start the same way: with both of them arguing about who's going first. Why this matters so much I couldn't tell you. My best guess is that Bruce wants Eleanor to go first because he's much more excited about petting Ms. Leigh's four cats than he is about viola lessons, and Eleanor wants Bruce to go first because Bruce wants Eleanor to go first and as the elder sibling, she's not about to stand for that kind of disrespect.

**She's playing the tuba because, as she likes to 

say, "I've got a LOT of air." 

And this is true. Very, very true.

Betty started guitar lessons. She's been eager to learn music, too, and can't wait for fall when she starts band.**
In fact, all summer, she's been complaining about how long summer is and how hard it is to wait for school to start again, which no child in our family has said, ever.

So, when I read about a lady who has developed a dyslexia curriculum for guitar, I signed her up. It's given her something to do while waiting for Tuba Time (aka, start of school) and she's really enjoying it.

Because weekly lessons aren't enough music, I just dropped Bruce off at his first residential music camp today at Texas State. The camp serves 7th through 12th graders, so as an 8th grader, he's one of the younger students.

When Eleanor went to choir camp at Texas State, the sidewalks were lined with overly caffeinated, extremely hyper voice majors, holding neon posters festooned with streamers and loudly welcoming us to choir camp while hundreds of kids milled around singing Beyoncé. (Eleanor almost turned around at that point.)

Orchestra camp was much more subtle. There were some small 8.5x11 copy paper flyers taped to random surfaces. Nerdy string majors manned quiet tables in an extremely organized manner, mostly avoiding eye contact. In the warmup room, every kid was in their own world--at least until they all accidentally stopped playing at the same time and it got dead quiet for about two minutes while everyone looked around at each other, unwilling to break the silence, until finally a couple of cellos started up and then the whole room gave a collective introverted sigh of relief and started playing at once. (Eleanor says this happens a lot in orchestra warmup rooms.) After his audition, we drove to the dorm and found his room.

At this point, Eleanor is usually like, "Don't leave me alone with strangers in a dorm!"

The conversation with Bruce went slightly differently.

Bruce: "What now?"
Me: "IDK, explore? Hang out in the common room? Walk around campus? Just be back by 5:30 so they can take you to the cafeteria."
Bruce: "Okay. Bye!"

I know he made it, because he texted us this picture, which he says represents the highlight of his day so far:

Hi-C and Powerade, evidently. Judging from the glass across the table, he's making friends.

Then I drove home to hear Eleanor at the piano and Betty playing guitar, making music in separate rooms. I hope they carry this music with them the rest of their lives and that it brings them as many happy memories as it brought me.