“Gabriel : If might is right, then love has no place in the world. It may be so, it may be so. But I don't have the strength to live in a world like that, Rodrigo.” — The Mission (1986)
By my fireplace stands a relic from my past. Silver and leaning against the fireplace. Nothing of note to the larger world and yet a vein of memories for me this evening. The instrument of joy came to me in the seventh grade. My Mom drove me to downtown Richmond. It was always a special outing to travel to the city. We parked on Broad Street and looked for the Yamaha music store.
I remember the door chimes as we opened the front door. Chimes of gaiety and the smell of fresh musical instruments on display. I walked around and marveled at all of the instruments — Tubas, French Horns, Oboes, Clarinets, Saxophones, drums. Something inside of me was pulled to the touch, the feel.
I was so excited to be in Band class! My best friend, Terry Nicholson, had played French Horn in Band since the sixth class. Whatever Terry could do I could do better! And so when it came time to choose a musical instrument for band class, I looked to the large diagram of instruments on our classroom wall. I scanned the instruments and picked the biggest instrument I could find on the diagram.
I would play the flute!
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The sales man asked us what were we interested in. My Mom explained that I had enrolled in band class. “And what is your instrument of choice, young man?” “Why, I will be playing the flute!” as I smiled from ear to ear. The attentive sales man walked us towards a far corner and proudly showed me the selection of flutes, Yamaha flutes.
Hey, what gives? I thought to myself. The flute was small compared to the Tuba and the French Horn. Then, it dawned on me as the salesman explained that the diagram in Band class was not drawn to scale. To my credit, I kept my commitment to my Band teacher, Mr. Brown. I chose a Yamaha flute, Mom paid the bill, and a lifelong relationship was born.
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I threw myself into mastering the flute. I practiced at every opportunity. The sounds of my music serenaded my neighbors on Jean Drive in the evenings and on weekends. The more I practiced, the more the delicate tones of the flute became part of me. I made a notable impression on my Band teacher who nominated me for the All-County Band. That performance lead to an award for me at the end of the school year as the Best First Year Flute player in Chesterfield County, Virginia.
What had begun as mistaken identity of size turned into a sense of self as a flutist. I learned to love what the human mind was capable of in union with other musical instruments. From the 7th grade forward, I would always love my flute. My flute has been with me over the years through college, law school, the Big Deal law firm in Manhattan, Capitol Hill, and San Diego.
Only death will part me from my love of music, and my flute.
Conclusion: My favorite movie of all time is The Mission (1986). The Mission is the story of Jesuit priests who find absolution, purpose and meaning in their common humanity with the Indians above the falls. The triumph over adversity and resolution to common humanity speak to me. Maybe, I was a Jesuit priest in a previous life/smile. Aside from the fantastic storytelling of screenplay writer Robert Bolt is a haunting feel for the soundtrack, for the divinity of Gabriel’s Oboe and the blessing of the flute. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mission_(1986_film)
My flute stares at me this evening and we remember together music as the muse of our lives.
Ah. No wonder you write so well. You're a musician!