A Momentus Day
Today, St Patrick's Day, 2013. the day I first played the bagpipes. Sort of.
So,after nine months and ten days of chanter practice today I met with Susan our pipe major at: the other student who is of at my level but isn't really because he's been playing recorder for 35 years and can already read music the ginormous booger head henceforth known as Michael's house, for my first lesson with an actual set of bag pipes, how to hold them without the bass drone cracking you in the ear, all three drones flipping forward, the blowpipe shooting out of your mouth or you passing out. Not as easy as it sounds. oh wait, that didn't sound easy did it? Well it isn't.
It's actualy a lot like cradling an alien spider baby. That can't breath on its own.
But if the pipes fit you properly as Susan's fit me, you reach a sweet spot moment when it all works pretty well and the blowpipe is not trying to knock your teeth out and the bag is not trying to suck your breath like an angry demon-cat. That's when you think, cool, I just might get this after all, but that's also when you realize that Michael is now at the next lesson called trying to get a sound-any sound- out of the actual chanter part-the part you have a golf Tee stuck in and you are back to square one only more light-headed then you were before. And your left arm is hurting because you aren't as relaxed as the pipe-major keeping telling you to be.
Anyway, Susan has lent me her very own pipes-which is pretty damn scary on its own given the number of animals in our house. And I have given them the temproary name of: Alien Spider Baby. I asked them very nicely if that name was ok and did they mind coming home with me for a while and I'm quite sure they said yes as long as I kept them well away from the evil cats, even the one that loves the chanter so much that he lays on my music, wacks the chanter, or wraps his paws around my leg and bites me when I play.
Hmm. Maybe he doesn't actually like it.
So,after nine months and ten days of chanter practice today I met with Susan our pipe major at: the other student who is of at my level but isn't really because he's been playing recorder for 35 years and can already read music the ginormous booger head henceforth known as Michael's house, for my first lesson with an actual set of bag pipes, how to hold them without the bass drone cracking you in the ear, all three drones flipping forward, the blowpipe shooting out of your mouth or you passing out. Not as easy as it sounds. oh wait, that didn't sound easy did it? Well it isn't.
It's actualy a lot like cradling an alien spider baby. That can't breath on its own.
But if the pipes fit you properly as Susan's fit me, you reach a sweet spot moment when it all works pretty well and the blowpipe is not trying to knock your teeth out and the bag is not trying to suck your breath like an angry demon-cat. That's when you think, cool, I just might get this after all, but that's also when you realize that Michael is now at the next lesson called trying to get a sound-any sound- out of the actual chanter part-the part you have a golf Tee stuck in and you are back to square one only more light-headed then you were before. And your left arm is hurting because you aren't as relaxed as the pipe-major keeping telling you to be.
Anyway, Susan has lent me her very own pipes-which is pretty damn scary on its own given the number of animals in our house. And I have given them the temproary name of: Alien Spider Baby. I asked them very nicely if that name was ok and did they mind coming home with me for a while and I'm quite sure they said yes as long as I kept them well away from the evil cats, even the one that loves the chanter so much that he lays on my music, wacks the chanter, or wraps his paws around my leg and bites me when I play.
Hmm. Maybe he doesn't actually like it.