That's Not Good Enough!

Will, carrying a small axe, slams it into the table and yells, “That’s not good enough!”

I am the type of person that plans and weighs my options. However, one of the many things I learned while being a Ladder guy, while in the fire department, was to adapt and be ready to make it up as you go along.

By the way, this is where it shows if a person has common sense. Common sense is a dying art form and those of us that have it are a rare breed.

Back to Pirates of the Caribbean.

I nod my head at that part because too many times we settle for “good enough”.

We need to push past the mindset that meanders through mundane marshes of mediocrity.

Speaking of mediocrity.

I will always refrain from criticizing and belittling anyone by name. However, I will also refrain from giving unearned praise. Understand that describing, discussing, and disassociating from someone or their behavior is not being judgmental. We are making wise decisions for our well-being by distancing ourselves.

Since I will not name names of people that have contributed a negative impact on my music life, I will refer to this person as the graduate assistant that will not be named.

This particular graduate assistant, that will not be named, arrived at my University after completing their degree in music performance at a different university. After the first week of classes, some of which I shared with them, the murmur was traveling through the music lounge that the graduate assistant that will not be named was not up to our standards of playing their instrument or education.

By the way, I am not claiming that a new book series should be written about an evil music wizard that is so evil that their name would not cross the lips of the rest of the musical commoners. It is just my way of protecting this individual's identity.

The graduate assistant that will not be named was instructed to direct the University Jazz Band for a few rehearsals. For those of you that know anything about University life, Jazz life, and College age musician's life, a new person that could not play their instrument half as well as our incoming freshman, was going to have a very difficult time instructing us.

The graduate assistant must have read up on their, “New middle school jazz band instructors guide to make your new jazz students sound like the pros book for dummies.”

Let me remind you, we did have a bit of an attitude. We were an accomplished group of musicians that have played as a group for a couple of years and were eager for new instruction. Well, from those worthy of giving instruction and direction.

The first thing the graduate assistant that will not be named did at the rehearsal was to grab a book and slide it under the pedals of the piano.

I wish I could have taken a video of this scene. Priceless would only scratch the surface of the valuable knowledge we received of how to handle a situation, what not to do in a situation, and why it is important to know your limitations.

Our piano player, Alan Alder (named used with permission), looked over at the band with an expressionless face once the graduate assistant that will not be named got on the floor, laid down, and slid the book underneath the pedals.

Alan is an amazing musician and educator. Alan was an amazing musician in college and had always had a professional, calm, and cool demeanor. When he looked over at us with that expression, we burst out laughing. We didn’t laugh at Alan, he knew that. His expression, the situation, and the graduate assistant that lay underneath his piano with a look of triumph on their face combined to create a fantastic comedic situation.

“What did you hope to accomplish by doing that?” Our jazz instructor asked the graduate assistant that will not be named.

“Jazz piano players should never use the pedals.” The graduate assistant that will not be named responded with a sense of pride in their voice.

Our jazz instructor told him to remove the book.

Before the graduate assistant that will not be named could get back onto the floor and remove the book, Alan, without looking, flicked the book out from underneath the piano with his foot.

We roared with laughter!

Alan, as I said earlier, always had a calm and professional demeanor. To us, the foot flick of the pedal-propping book was an ultimate act of defiance with a hint of, “Evidently, you don’t know who I am!” thrown in.

Alan had never overused the pedals. The pedals were used, yes pedals are used in jazz, at the right time and in the correct way. Alan could have verbally destroyed the graduate assistant that will not be named, but, chose to maintain his professional composure. By doing so, he was a great example to those of us that had tears streaming down our faces from laughing so hard.

You see, in the mind of the graduate assistant that will not be named, “That’s not good enough,” was going to happen before assessing the situation. They assumed since they knew a little trick that may help a beginning piano player in a beginning jazz band, it would apply to an accomplished musician, in an accomplished group.

Premature, “That’s not good enough,” can be detrimental to a musical career, and life. Once we determine that things can be improved, we should determine what needs improvement, create a plan, implement the plan, reassess the plan, make changes, and continue to monitor.

If someone, “That’s not good enough’s” you, and you know they are wrong, I suggest being an Alan and not a graduate assistant that will not be named.

After moving to Florida, I accepted a teaching position at the local high school. I taught guitar, ukulele, and world music. It was fun and I enjoyed watching some students excel at learning how to play the guitar and ukulele. I stopped teaching after the first semester. My desire to play my trumpet and audition for groups, gigs, and all other things musical pulled me away from the classroom.

One of my guitar students, Evelyn, embodied the phrase, “That’s not good enough!” She had a little knowledge of guitar, but, while taking my class she learned to read chords, notes, and tablature. She became quite a good guitarist and excelled at playing and writing music.

At the beginning of each class, once the students learned how to read tab, I would write a guitar lick on the board. I wouldn’t tell them the tune. The students were to write the tab into their notebooks, practice it, then make an educated guess of the tune.

Although Evelyn would play the tab correctly, she wasn’t able to guess the tune for each example. In her defense, some of the examples I put on the board were written anywhere between 20-40 years before she was born. However, Evelyn knew how to rock and was able to get the AC/DC, Queen, and Rolling Stone examples. But, learning 4-8 bar phrases from popular, in my day, tunes were not good enough for her.

I encouraged the students to submit, school-appropriate, tunes and I would check out the tab and we would learn it in class. Sometimes I would need to change the tab so that those of us that were not guitar masters could play along with those that were accomplished guitarists.

Yes, I admit that some of my beginning guitar students became better guitarists than me. Evelyn, Caden, and Daniel could do things on the guitar that made me watch in amazement.

One day, Evelyn suggested a tune and I printed off the tab and began practicing. I wanted to try to get a grasp of the tune before presenting it to the class. When I understood what the song was trying to say or what the music was trying to accomplish, I would be able to help the students efficiently.

Evelyn, if you are reading this, I apologize for not remembering the tune. But, I do remember that it was a great tune and it was beyond my skill set. So, what I ended up doing was having her play what she could of the tune. I sat back and watched some of the other students listen in amazement. I too sat in amazement, but, I was also feeling a sense of pride.

The pride wasn’t from something I did, but, it was what a sense of pride in her. She took the concepts I taught and propelled herself further. What she learned was not good enough for her and after (figuratively) slamming the axe on the table and yelling, “That’s not good enough!” She pushed herself and learned things that were harder and of a greater skill set than what I was teaching.

Bravo Evelyn and keep up the great work.

My experience with, “That’s not good enough!” was a little different than Evelyn’s experience.

While in college, I had a professor named Steve Prescott that taught instrument repair. Steve was and still is an incredible clarinet player. He worked for the school as the instrument repair technician, played in the Orchestra and many other gigs, and gave wise advice to those of us that asked and listened.

I would consider Steve as one of my top instructors while attending college. He was the one that educated me when I learned my lesson of, “That’s not good enough.” (Notice I didn’t use an exclamation point after that one?)

During the instrument repair class, taught by Steve, I was working on a clarinet. For some reason, I was able to fix clarinets and flutes a lot better than I could brass instruments. I enjoyed soldering, realigning, and removing dents from the brass instruments, however, I would scorch the finish and do sloppy soldering. The sloppy soldering would lead to extensive cleanup which would lead to the potential of me scratching or scorching more lacquer.

Anyway, my forte was replacing clarinet tenon corks. I enjoyed working on them and was proud of my work.

Well, that sense of pride decided to go down the route of gloating pride instead of self-betterment pride.

I had finished replacing the tenon corks on a clarinet during class and although I knew they were good, functional, and seamless, I took the clarinet to Steve and said, “Is this good enough?”

Allow me to paint the picture a little more. When I went up to Steve, I waited until he was by a group of students that were woodwind players. At the time, I told myself that I wanted them to see that I could fix their instruments if they needed, but I knew that I wanted to show off my handiwork and receive praise in front of them. I didn’t need the praise and in all honesty, I still have no idea why I felt like I needed to do that. It was pretty cocky and arrogant and I am admitting and owning it.

Steve took the clarinet from my hands, at this time I am quite sure I had a smug look on my face, looked at it then handed it back to me and said, “Is anything ever good enough?”

He didn’t say it loudly. I am sure that no one heard him say that but me. His words were not said in a mean, derogatory, or spiteful way either. Those words were filled with truth, and honesty, and taught me a lesson of a lifetime.

I have mentioned that scene to Steve a few times over the years and his reply is something along these lines, “I am glad I was able to teach you something that you remembered and could use.”

What a great teacher and friend. I am sure he doesn’t remember that scene, at all. It took place about 30 years ago. But, that has been 30 years of me remembering, striving, and teaching that although we may settle for something that we think is good enough, we need to push ourselves to go further, try harder, and better ourselves.

Thank you Steve and thank you Evelyn for reminding me that, “That’s not good enough!”

Now for the meat of this blog.

I have been submitting auditions for different playing opportunities.

I have not had to audition for anything in over 20 years. What an eye-opener it has been for me.

I am so old school that I didn’t realize I had to record myself, put it on YouTube under the unlisted category, supply them with the link, and then wait for instructions. My concept of the audition was standing in front of people or behind a curtain, playing the pieces, answering questions, and allowing them to hear my playing, experience my personality, and see a bit of my showmanship.

When I submitted all of the auditions, I told my wife that I didn’t represent myself well in the auditions. She is supportive and wonderful, so, she responded with words of encouragement and positivity. However, she didn’t go overboard with the, “I am sure you got the gigs,” or “They had better call you up because you would be great for them,” responses. When I told her that I didn’t represent who I am and what I can do, she believed me.

At one point during the time I was recording myself, I thought, “That is going to have to be good enough.” I knew right then that I was not going to get the gig. Please understand that I didn’t give up. It was at that point that I decided to push myself even harder and try to complete all of the tasks to the best of my ability.

As my good friend Fernando Frank (Fernando Band for those of you that have read my other blogs) says, “There are many reasons but no excuses.” Those wise words were passed along to him and he, in turn, has passed them along himself.

The reasons why I didn’t represent myself well were numerous. They range from miscommunication, multiple takes on lead charts, trying to improv on charts that were beyond my ability, weariness, and many others.

But, like Fernando say, many reasons, but no excuses. I cannot use any of those reasons as an excuse for me not being warmed up enough before I began recording. No excuse for me not accepting Fernando’s help in recording on his equipment to get a professional quality video and audio recording. Instead, I used my phone to record myself. No excuse for me not being able to improv to the charts they requested. I am retired now and have the time to teach myself how to transition between chord symbols and play a lyrical and interesting improv solo.

No excuses when the ability to succeed has and always have been within my power and ability.

The many reasons why I didn’t get the jobs are now the bullet points on the paper I have on my practice stand. Each one is a lesson to learn, a technique to practice, and a reason to push myself to become a better trumpet player.

Each reason is a new way for me to look at music, smile, and think, “Isn’t this fun?!”

I can look at every one of the bullet points while slamming my handheld axe into the table and think that I will not settle for, “good enough”, instead, I will think, “That’s not good enough!”