After school my daughter and I drove over to Walmart where I dropped off her prescription and then proceeded to walk out the doors, into the parking lot where she and I waited for 30 minutes for a covert deal to go down. I had received the call thirty minutes earlier to "meet me at the gas station in front of Walmart...I'll be in a silver truck parked in the shade." While waiting and wondering if we had missed him my daughter and I shared a 6 months past it's expiration date granola bar (tasted like corregated cardboard). My cell rang and I was asked what kind of car I drove. "I'm in a gray VW Jetta...near a rock wall underneath the only shade tree in the parking lot." The caller's response was, "I know exactly where you are."
In my rearview mirror I watched as a silver truck pulled in behind me. The driver got out and we exchanged goods: I gave him a check and a flute and he promised to fix it and clean it up good as new.
Almost 30 years ago, when I was in 6th grade, I began playing the flute in the middle school band. I can vividly recall going with my mom to a real true music store...the kind that had French Horns mounted on the walls. Money was tight and I remember that Mom was willing to get me an instrument no matter what by golly. I walked out of that store with a Gehmeinhart flute (my apologies to the makers of this flute as I know I have butchered the spelling !) I thought I was really something. I held that slender black case by it's suspended handle and just knew that I was hot stuff. My dad gave me one of his thin, white handkerchiefs to keep inside the royal blue velvet lined case to polish my flute with. He also engraved my last name on each of the three pieces to ensure that it never got mixed up or-gasp-stolen (of course, having a surname on an instrument is not that great of a deterrant to theft...it only allows the thief to know exactly who he/she stole it from).
I practiced and I was quite good----first chair for the majority of the two years I played thankyouverymuch. But once I hit high school it was not considered "cool" in my circle of "friends" to continue on and so I did not pursue band any longer. My flute rested in its case for almost thirty years and now, it is being played again. Of course, the boll weevils have feasted on the pads beneath all of the keys thus resulting in the need to call in a flute fixer upper. There is such a person and I met him in the Walmart parking lot. I already owed him $75.00 for fixing my husband's trumpet he pretended to play when he was in 6th grade (which my son resurrected to pretend to play his 6th and 7th grade years). Ah...money well spent. So now my daughter is following in her mother's footsteps and I was happy...until flute man told me it would cost $200.00 to repair. Time to get out the engraver and scratch through my maiden name.
In my rearview mirror I watched as a silver truck pulled in behind me. The driver got out and we exchanged goods: I gave him a check and a flute and he promised to fix it and clean it up good as new.
Almost 30 years ago, when I was in 6th grade, I began playing the flute in the middle school band. I can vividly recall going with my mom to a real true music store...the kind that had French Horns mounted on the walls. Money was tight and I remember that Mom was willing to get me an instrument no matter what by golly. I walked out of that store with a Gehmeinhart flute (my apologies to the makers of this flute as I know I have butchered the spelling !) I thought I was really something. I held that slender black case by it's suspended handle and just knew that I was hot stuff. My dad gave me one of his thin, white handkerchiefs to keep inside the royal blue velvet lined case to polish my flute with. He also engraved my last name on each of the three pieces to ensure that it never got mixed up or-gasp-stolen (of course, having a surname on an instrument is not that great of a deterrant to theft...it only allows the thief to know exactly who he/she stole it from).
I practiced and I was quite good----first chair for the majority of the two years I played thankyouverymuch. But once I hit high school it was not considered "cool" in my circle of "friends" to continue on and so I did not pursue band any longer. My flute rested in its case for almost thirty years and now, it is being played again. Of course, the boll weevils have feasted on the pads beneath all of the keys thus resulting in the need to call in a flute fixer upper. There is such a person and I met him in the Walmart parking lot. I already owed him $75.00 for fixing my husband's trumpet he pretended to play when he was in 6th grade (which my son resurrected to pretend to play his 6th and 7th grade years). Ah...money well spent. So now my daughter is following in her mother's footsteps and I was happy...until flute man told me it would cost $200.00 to repair. Time to get out the engraver and scratch through my maiden name.
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