good things come

02-23-00

Well, if you read my yesterday, you can guess I've been in a horrible mood lately. (Hormonal, too, but that's beside the point.) I'm frustrated about my job situation and pretty depressed. I was planning another day of self-pity and bitterness, when I checked my voice mail and everything changed.

I got called in to go on tour with a university symphonic band from the area. The director is a guy I talked to last week, who pretty much blew me off, saying he had all the brass instructors he needed, but he'd keep my number, anyway. The band has no euphonium players, and the trombone instructor has been filling in. The very next day that trombone instructor just happened to go by the director's office and say, "Gee, there's this euphoniumist in Warner Robins you should call...." I swear, it was a total coincidence. I'd like to say the director would have called me anyway, but I doubt it. So, thanks, Charles. I owe you.

It's a three day tour in Panama City, FL and Fort Walton, FL. During spring break, dudes. I'm getting my own hotel room, meals and transportation provided, and a hefty sum of cash. Like, Hefty=$400. For three days, two nights on the Gulf coast. That's more than I've ever gotten for a playing gig. Welcome to the freelance world, Bets! AND, a week after we return, we're recording a CD in three sessions, and they're spilling me another $250.

The only bummer in the deal is that it's right over the weekend that I was flying to Michigan. A couple of phone calls took care of that, and I'm rebooked for Monday instead of Friday. $175 of my trip cash is covering the flight-rescheduling wrist-slaps that I'm getting from US Airways. Still, I'm visiting my parents for a week, no difference, and I'll be $275 richer.

The best thing is that my foot will be in the door at the university. I need the connections at a college in Macon in order to get a teaching gig. There are plenty of colleges in town, but this one has the most developed music department. I am in, baby. Yes.

So, I broke free from my Trance of Doom and called the factory in Wisconsin that manufactures my brand of euphonium. I need to give the old Willson a bath and a set of new valve pads and springs. The factory used to send me springs and pads for free, but today I was shot down. "You need to get those things from a local distributor," said the (obviously incompetent) phone-answerer-lady.

I told her: "I'm in rural Georgia. I can't even get Yamaha instruments around here. I don't think there's a store anywhere near me that would carry your products." She asked what stores are in my area.

I told her the name of the one that dissed me when I was looking for a job. I prayed she wouldn't tell me that I'd have to go to them. Please don't make me go to Hard-On's. Please.

She looked on her big list-o-stores and dug up one in Macon, and it wasn't Hard-On's. I called the number of this new place and talked to three people before someone had even heard of a euphonium. Finally, the store manager listened to my list of springs and pads and valve guides and caps and all that technical nonsense, and said, "Oh, yeah, I keep all that valve stuff in stock.

Uh huh. I'll bet you've never seen the likes of my horn. No offense, but I could count the number of professional euphoniumists in this state on one hand, and there might be two of us who play on Willsons. Why would you carry Willson pads in your band instrument/guitar store?

I'm going to the store, anyway. Maybe he does know what he's talking about, and I won't have to jump through a zillion hoops just to get parts for my horn.

After spending a couple hours on the phone, I went to the band squadron to meet the tubists and John for a quartet reading session. Well, when I got there it was a quintet. I sounded sufficiently like ass, enough to get my sorry ass into a practice room for the next month.

It's funny how winning one little thing changes your outlook. I went from zoning on the couch to pumped full of energy, in the space of one phone message. I didn't actually get up off the couch, because I had a Really Important game of Tetris going on with the gameboy and it couldn't be saved. But after that, man, I read quartets, I made plans to work out, and go part-shopping, and all those projects I haven't had the cojones to start for so long. All because somebody wants me. They want me to play for them. They need me to play for them. I told y'all, sons-of-bitches.