It can be pretty intimidating being surrounded by people whose talents far exceed your own, but the apprehension ratchets up considerably when your feeble stammering is put in the spotlight before those same people. It wasn't exactly sweaty-palm stuff, but it came close. I was back at jazz band rehearsal after having missed last week on account of the wedding we attended down south. We were rehearsing, "Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars," a catchy Bossa Nova piece. I love listening to the horns and saxes when they play those buttery jazz harmonies. Some of these folks are really talented. I'm always amazed at how quickly they put together some pretty difficult runs. This particular piece was a number I had been practicing, pretty repetitive, and pretty simple. Still, I nearly choked when the conductor said, "I'd like to hear the rhythm section play from number twenty one." For anyone unfamiliar with how a band is organized, the rhythm section is drums, piano, and bass.
We played through the part he wanted to hear when to my horror, he said, "Could you turn up the bass a bit? I can't hear it." Well, that was the whole point. Trust me, at this stage of the game, it's better that way. But turn it up, I did, and it really went pretty well. I'm just glad he didn't ask us to solo on one of the faster, more difficult pieces. I'm still not sure how much of an asset I am to the band. More like just the first half of the word, if you ask me. When it was all over, I realized I had just passed a test, one that the conductor didn't even realize he was giving. I barely squeaked through, but I did make it, and am looking forward to tomorrow's practice so when the tough stuff comes along, I'll be ready. Yeah, tonight I'm grinning. And I'm grateful for this musical opportunity that sits on my doorstep every Friday.
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