Using the right tools for the right job will help you play the right note, at the right time, in the right way.
After I graduated from Indiana State University with a music education degree in 1995, I accepted a teaching position at the Royal Independent School District in Brookshire, Texas. Before I continue with the music story, I need to let you know it is pronounced, Brook-shure…not Brook-shire. I hope that clarification pleased my former students.
I had the opportunity to teach one year at RISD, it was fun, educational, and full of excellent times that turned into fantastic memories that still put a smile on my face.
When I accepted the teaching position at RISD, I automatically became the band director at Royal high school and Royal middle school. My duties included the high school marching band, concert band, and all three grades (6-8) bands at the middle school.
Although I love teaching and helping instruct marching bands, my forte is middle school. For me, teaching middle school band is the epitome of education. Allow me to lay it out for you in a brief timeline.
Students receive their instruments without prior knowledge or experience. I understand that some students may have played around on the instruments at some point, but, have not received proper instruction. The director instructs the students on the proper way to open the case. To those of you reading this that teach middle school and beginning instrumentalists, you know what I am talking about. The students learn how to hold, assemble, disassemble, and stow the instruments back into their cases. Psssst, clarinets, please make sure you are holding the keys down on the upper joint while assembling the upper and lower joints together. Tearing off that cork really is not a good thing to do. The director, after making sure all students are holding their instruments correctly, this includes drumsticks and mallets, confirm the student’s exercise books are turned to the first page and they are right-side up. The students are instructed on how to produce a sound, raise their instruments to the play position, and then produce the loudest, blattiest, scariest, and most wonderful sound the class will make in their entire lives.
They had created their very first sound on their instrument as a band. We all know that the first sound from the instrument is followed by the band’s first choral concert even the great Peter Schickele (aka P.D.Q. Bach) could never orchestrate. The Choral concert consists of the students laughing, snorting, gasping, and maybe even crying. The looks on the student’s faces add a rich flavor to the performance. The looks they give typically consist of fear, dread, joy, happiness, amazement, disgust, and sometimes pleasure, at the same time.
The director, after the din of the combined instrumental and choral assault on the music world subsides, can and should praise the students for creating something that had never been created in that classroom, the world, or even the universe. It should also be pointed out that it will never be created again. The idea of creating music has begun with each student. Each unique, wonderful, and impressionable student has begun a journey, be it short or long, it is a journey into the world of music.
Okay, okay, okay, I will get back to the story that started at Royal high school.
The principal, vice principal, superintendent, and students told me that the band had not marched at the local parades or football games in six years. I, being a marching band, drum corp, moovin’ to the groovin’, and all around can’t stand still while playing music-loving person, smiled and said, “We will be marching this year.”
So, we did.
I took stock music and made some cuts and changes, wrote the drill, and began to teach marching fundamentals to the students. It was a blast and personally, it was satisfying to see the images I had seen in my mind and written on paper become moving pictures on a marching band field.
The band boosters came to the school and began to fit the students with the marching band uniforms and shoes. We didn’t have a lot of money, so, we had a stockade of white marching band shoes for the students.
Our first public appearance, as the marching band, was a short parade through the town. I can’t remember the occasion for the parade, but, it was an opportunity for the community to see their kids perform.
The parade, with the exception of one incident that I will discuss next, was a huge success.
I heard hooting and hollering along the parade route that cheered the kids on. It was a pleasure to see their eyes widen with surprise and watch them stand a little taller with pride. Seriously, a lot of time we hear bands do a cheer that ends with, “EYES…WITH PRIDE!” I did see eyes with pride, but mostly, I saw students that took ownership of their band as their eyes showed their surprise and the pride run through them. That pride encouraged them to stand and march taller for the simple fact that they were a part of something that a lot of other people have never tried or could not do.
Here is the incident, or the exception to the huge success I mentioned earlier.
One of the students, named Warren, I will not give his full name because I was not able to contact him and receive permission to use his name, was a tall guy. I am guessing, if my memory serves me correctly, he was probably 6’5”-6’6” tall. Warren was a trombone player and one of those students that a teacher knew would succeed. He had a great personality and was a good student. He wasn’t going to be a world-class trombone player, but, that didn’t matter.
A little soapbox talk here
Band directors need to remember that their job is to teach, educate, and inspire. We are not to gain our self-worth through the success of the band’s rankings, scores, or the student’s continuance in music after they graduate. We teach them through music and hope they use the lessons we taught for the rest of their lives.
Steps off of my soapbox
As I was saying before I got interrupted by a box of soap. Warren was a great student.
Please understand that I was unaware of the situation involving Warren occurred until after the parade.
After the parade, I see Warren gingerly walking back to the bus with his trombone in one hand and his shoes in the other hand. I asked him if his shoes hurt his feet because they were not broken in and if felt better without them on. He replied with a, “Yup”, or “Uh-huh” and kept walking. At this time, other students pulled for my attention, I hustled them onto the bus and we returned to the high school. Once inside the band room, the students began to put their instruments away and cluster in small groups while waiting for their rides. Everyone, except Warren.
Warren was sitting in a chair, barefoot, and resting his elbows on his knees. Thinking about that image reminds me of pictures that were taken of me and many of my bother and sisters in the fire service, sitting on the bumpers of our trucks after fighting a tough fire. Warren’s body language read as if he had been through a tough battle.
I had no idea what was going on with him. Physically, the parade was easy. Especially for a guy like Warren who was physically fit and young. So, I walked toward him and asked, “What’s up Warren, the parade shouldn’t have taken too much out of you.” I was also thinking he may have had something emotionally going on in his life and he wanted to talk about it, I was a listening ear.
“Na, Mr. Hauger,” he said as he looked up at me, “the parade wasn’t too bad except I had the wrong shoes.”
I mentioned earlier that Warren was about 6’5”-6’6”. My son is 6’5” and wears size 15 shoes. Logically, Warren would have worn size 14-16, but, wore a size 10 for the parade. I looked down at his socks and saw red ovals where his ankles and the back of his feet had been chewed up by the hard edges of the shoes he had stuffed his feet into.
“Why did you wear those shoes instead of the ones that fit you?” I asked him.
“I think I left mine at home,” he said, “So I looked at the leftover shoes and found a pair that was closest to my size.”
“Why didn’t you tell me,” I asked, “We could have had a band parent run you home to get them.”
“I didn’t want to be late.” He responded.
The moral of the story is not that Warren never forgot his shoes again or that I should have known better than to have the students wear white, ankle cutting no matter what size they wore, shoes with white socks with blue marching pants.
The moral of the story is to make sure you wear the right size of the shoe. Better yet, choose the right tool for the right job. Warren’s character, his desire to not be late, and his grit to get the job done with less than comfortable equipment, shows that he was and I can guarantee still is an amazing person.
I have had the opportunity to have lunch with Dave Jones. No, not the Monkees’ Dave Jones, I am talking about the fantastic trumpet-playing, music-composing, funny, and great guy, Dave Jones. Typically, I don’t get into discussions about gear. I have no idea what size of mouthpiece he uses or what brand of horn he holds dear to his heart. However, we got into a conversation about mouthpieces after I mentioned to him that I had encouraged a trumpet lesson student to try a different mouthpiece. She is a very good and smart trumpet player but, each time she pulled the mouthpiece away from her chops it looked like she had pressed one of the old glass coke bottles on her lips. I could tell the rim had a hard edge and probably felt like it was cutting into her lips. She used very little pressure and did not aspire to hit high notes. After the mouthpiece change, she said she instantly felt relief.
I then brought up that I use one mouthpiece for my, “Legit” work and another for my “Lead/rock/funk/Jazz” work.
“It makes me think of a hammer,” Dave said after I told him about the student, “you know what I mean?”
I didn’t and told him so.
“If you are a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Even that window looks like a nail.” He said as he pointed to the window.
“Also,” he continued, “If I had a power saw and knew how to use the power saw very well, it doesn’t mean I could build a house with a power saw as my only tool.”
Wise words from a wise man. Not only were they wise words, but he also used simple analogies so a trumpet player, like me, could understand. Thanks, Dave!
Allow me to bridge the connection between Warren and Dave, then introduce Chuck and Pete.
The shoes Warren wore didn’t fit him. They ended up hurting him and made the parade a less-than-enjoyable experience. The shoes were like the hammer. They got the job done, but, they were the wrong tools for the job. Instead of supporting his feet while he performed his duty, they were acting more like a hammer on a sheet of glass.
Using the right tool for the right job is essential.
It is time to introduce Chuck.
I met Chuck in my Freshman year of college. Chuck Parrish had stopped by Indiana State University to visit friends and he agreed to give a sectional to the jazz band’s trumpet section.
By the way, did I tell you that Chuck was on break from touring with Ray Charles? Yup, that Ray Charles and he is that Chuck Parrish. Fortunately, I maintain a calm demeanor and refuse to become an annoying person when I meet people that are famous or people I look up to.
So, meeting Chuck was an honor. Hearing him play was amazing and a blast. Learning from him was something that has helped me become a better trumpet player. Most importantly, getting the chance to experience the way he instructed, encouraged, and corrected us was something I wanted to emulate. I was and never have been one of the cocky or “hey I’m better than you” trumpet players. I can play with the lead attitude, the “follow me and I will lead you in the right style, sound, and dynamic” but not the, “You shall bow to my trumpet superiority and thou shall not use earplugs.”
Anyway.
We were playing St. Thomas and I was the lead trumpet. As Chuck began to work with us he had us go over a couple of passages a few times while asking me, “Are you able to give a little more bite to the sound here.” Or he would say something like, “Could you give it a little more edge?”
“I’m trying,” I replied. I truly was trying but it wasn’t reaching the lead sound that was needed.
Then my life in music stopped, readjusted, and began to operate on a completely different level.
“What horn are you using?” Chuck asked as he walked over to me.
“A Bach Strad,” I said with a feeling of great pride.
If you have read my blog about my audition at Indiana State University, you will remember that the only horn I owned was a Bach Mercedes II. I had rented the Strad from the university and was amazed that I was playing a professional-level horn for the first time in my life.
“Can I see it for a second,” Chuck asked, “Ahhhh,” he said as he looked it over.
The “Ahhhh” was not a satisfied-sounding “Ahhhh”, but it did sound like an “Ahhhh” of recognition and an answer to his question.
“This is a large bore horn,” he said as he handed the horn back to me. “Is this your primary horn or do you have another one?”
“I have a Bach Mercedes II,” I answered with my insides churning.
“Great,” he replied, “do you have it with you?”
I went and got the horn out of my locker and returned to the room. He looked at it and said, “Good, it’s a medium-large bore.”
He started us on St. Thomas once again and was happy that the sound I gave had the bite and edge he was wanting. Looking back now, I was trying to build a house while only using a power saw while wearing shoes two sizes too small. I didn’t have the right tools for the job.
Let me take this moment to provide a public service announcement. Please understand that I am not saying to those of you reading this that you need to get a new horn, mouthpiece, or both. Believe me, when I say this, the new shoes really do not make you run faster and jump higher.
However…
A basketball player wouldn’t be able to cut and drive on the court if they wore cleats. They do that while wearing basketball shoes and a football player would get out juked if they wore basketball shoes on the football field. We have to use the right tool for the right job.
We moved to Florida after I retired from the fire department. My goal is to play my horn and earn enough money to help support my family.
One of the problems with moving to a new place is that no one knows that I can show up and read a book, play the correct style, and couldn’t care less if I played the first or twenty-third part. Playing my trumpet is a pleasure and a passion.
I have been playing in a number of groups that are community bands or groups that play for no pay. I enjoy playing in these groups because they are typically filled with people that love playing music. Playing in those groups helps the members escape the pressures of life and create music for fun.
One of the groups I have sat in with is called, Brass Music Elements. It is led by Mr. Tom Hessney. Tom is a fantastic player, leader, and arranger. The group consists of Trumpets, Flugelhorns, Horns in F, Trombones, Tuba, and a rhythm section that plays arrangements written by Tom.
I had the opportunity to stand next to and play alongside of fantastic lead trumpet player, Pete Davis. Pete is a fellow northerner, like me, however, he comes from a little farther north. He is from Minnesota and you would never think so because I haven’t heard one hint of a “Yooper” accent. I know the “Yooper” accent is attributed to Michigan’s U.P. but some Minnesota natives I have encountered must live close to Michigan because of their accent.
Pete and I had the opportunity to talk after a rehearsal and I was telling him I was writing this blog about using the right tools.
He said, “Yeah, I know what you mean by that, I switched mouthpieces for that last solo.”
That “last solo”, he was talking about was the MacArthur Park solo. He had hints of Maynard and Lynn Nicholson woven into the solo and his sound in the stratosphere was outstanding.
Our conversation was very similar to the one I had with Dave Jones. We can still hit the same notes with the mouthpieces we use, but there is a level of comfort, sound, and endurance that is needed for a gig. We choose the right tool for the right job. Switching mouthpieces from tune to tune or in the middle of a tune isn’t practical, nor is it recommended. Consistency of sound from a player is essential and can be as important if not more important than than to consistency of showing up.
In closing, I will give you a few wise words.
Don’t try hammering a nail with a power saw or cutting a piece of wood with a hammer. Especially try not to do those activities while wearing shoes that are three sizes too small and playing the MacArthur Park solo on a large bore trumpet with a glass coke bottle mouthpiece.