The Creation of the Trombone

I know that many of you wonder how an instrument like the trombone came into being.

It has a long and socially awkward history. Unfortunately it's true history has become extinct. Much like the T-Rex (who incidentally did not have arms long enough for the trombone)

But I have managed to piece together some of this forgotten history and now I will share it with you.

Many will try to tell you that the trombone is a descendent of the baroque trombone or sackbut, but this is a lie created by the unfortunate Sackbut family (of France), who wanted to have redeeming qualities associated with their very unfortunate surname. I am still at a loss for why they thought naming a trombone would help their situation in any way.

In reality, the first trombone was a complete and total disaster. It's creator, Harold, made a living making instruments for the medieval tournaments frequently held by his king.

Harold's first trombone model was such a disappointment that he threw it out of his workshop and began construction of the much more successful herald trumpets. These were later used in every tournament an ultimately in the King's court, but Harold still died poor. Because Feudalism.

He also didn't have his trumpet named after him because they spelled his name wrong. Poor Harold.

But on the fateful day that the trombone was thrown from the workshop and into the street, a knight happened to be passing by. He was a knight solely due to his family's status and was quickly accepted around the kingdom as an oddball (socially awkward by today's standards). He saw the bizarre hunk of metal and its moving slide and thought to himself

 "What a wonderful new lance for my jousting tournaments!"

Actually he didn't think it. He said it out loud because he was socially awkward and talked to himself frequently.

The knight then brought the failed  musical instrument to his next tournament thinking that the extra extension of the slide would allow him to defeat his opponent ere he was struck.

He was wrong.

The herald trumpets blasted their notes, the crowd cheered, the knights rode towards each other at great speed, and our socially awkward knight's brass lance folded. He found himself unhorsed with a broken arm. Realizing he was not cut out for jousting, the knight decided to go on a journey of "healing". In the mines of Rodrom he repaired the trombone and lived out the rest of his days learning to play in complete isolation.

Fast forward a few years to the Age of Sail. A young Napoleon Bonaparte is wandering near our knights final resting place when he finds a hunk of brass. He keeps the item (The knights trombone if you haven't guessed) until he begins to war with everyone. Being a land fighter desperate to dominate the British at sea, he decides that the moving slide on this item should be incorporated into every mast of his sailing fleet. It was supposedly some attempt at retractable masts so the short men he recruited for his navy (to make him feel tall) didn't have to climb so high into the rigging. Or at least they didn't need to carry their chairs to sea.

Obviously this is why Napoleon lost the war.

When he was exiled, he gave the instrument to his awkward nephew who aspired to be a surgeon.

 "One who chops through bones for amputation" was what he explained to the horrified few who asked him to elaborate on his future career.

Fortunately he never became a surgeon. He found the flatulent noises of his uncles instrument to be far more satisfying and decided to create a career for himself. Taking advantage of the kindness of the good Christians in the local churches the boy began to play in weekly services. When asked what instrument he was playing the boy would simply respond with "trombone". He named it this because he thought the sound it made was "tromb" and he still had an odd obsession with sawing bones.

Just as Napoleons nephew began to make progress playing the trombone, it was stolen by con man Harold Hill. Hill made multiple copies of it and sold them all over the world as band instruments in a package deal with his newly christened "Harold Trumpets".

Napoleons nephew grew up to be the easily forgotten opponent in Spiderman's first wrestling match. He is now mostly known for the famous line "BONESAW IS READYYYYY!!!"

And that my friends is the completely bogus and socially awkward history of the trombone.

Quasi-Delusional

It's been a long time. There are only two possible explanations as to why this trombonist has not written. She either made real friends or was so socially awkward that she forgot how to communicate through written word.

OK not really. I'm fine. Nothing's broken, my brain is unaltered, my friends are still brass players, and I haven't written because....because.....dang you writers block. I can't even remember what I was going to use as an excuse.

But the point is that I'm back. So here's a post about socially awkward trombone players.

Quasi-delusional

Disney has made a lot of movies, and as a result, they have created hundreds of characters. Everyone has a character they want to be like, and a character that they are actually like. For example, some people feel like Cinderella when in reality they do about as much cleaning as Tarzan.

Here are a few gross generalizations about musician delusions:

Flute players believe that they are most similar Rapunzel. In reality they are probably more like the Charlotte La Bouff character from The Princess and the Frog.

Clarinet players want to be Meg from Hercules, but they act more like the diabolical Iago from Aladdin.

Trumpet players. These people think they're the Prince Charming type of awesome. Everyone else knows that they're actually the hypochondriac elephant in Tarzan.

Saxophone players try to act like the swingin' Scat Cat from the Aristocats. But most end up more like the squawky Zazu from The Lion King.

Percussionists often pick from any family member from The Incredibles and pretend to be one of them. In reality they behave much like Stitch.

The trombonists would pick a majestic and powerful character like Hercules. That's a perfectly acceptable delusion dream.

Unfortunately, reality dictates that the socially awkward trombonist is almost certainly destined to be most similar to Quasimodo.

Why? See if these ring a bell.

1. He's a societal outcast.
2. His interactions with the few people he knows are incredibly awkward.
3. His only friends are inanimate objects that he speaks to.
4. His eye contact is terrible (partly due to the enlarged brow of his left eye but mostly because of his awkwardness).
5. His posture is worse than his eye contact.
6. He is almost entirely deaf due to large percussion instruments that he has no choice but to interact with.

The guy is a poster child for the socially awkward, and therefore, practically a trombonist.


As socially awkward as he is, Quasi is quite lovable  Sure, he's probably the scariest hero in any Disney movie, but people manage to like him.

Well, they at least pity him.

And THAT is what trombonists live on. Pity.

Fortunately, most people understand that the trombonist was born with a socially awkward gene. These people will occasionally put half of a hamburger and 1 pint of [insert beverage here] into the trombone busking tip jar so no one has to starve. Pity at its finest.

But back to Quasimodo.

The hunchback spends much of his time talking to his gargoyle friends. These gargoyle friends are what Disney uses to make the movie more accessible to children. But as viewers of the movie get older, they realize that the gargoyles are actually mute inanimate creatures made of stone.

Well, most of the viewers.

Children destined to grow up to a life of trombone playing never realize that the gargoyles in the movie aren't real.

Why? Because many trombonists have imaginary friends that are similar to the gargoyles.

Instead of a gargoyle, the imaginary friend is the trombone. You can imagine the effects this will have on a person. Instead of gargoyles peer pressuring you to attend the festival of fools, the trombone is telling you to perform in front of real live people.

We all know that Quasi's imaginary friends are responsible for his being tied up and spun around on one of those banned children's playground carousels while people threw rotten fruit at his face. Sure, it allowed him to meet Esmerelda, but she friendzoned him pretty dang fast once she met Pheobus.

If gargoyles cause that, imagine the damage that a trombone could do!

So maybe Judge Claude Frollo had a point. Maybe the world was not ready for Quasimodo if he was easily influenced by the imaginary.

In the same way the world is not ready for the trombonist...

The typical music director is very similar to Frollo. He goes through extreme lengths to keep the trombonists hidden from the cruel and wicked world.

For performances, a music director will hide most of the ugly in an ensemble with different musical techniques. Unfortunately, the trombones require well placed shrubbery, straight jackets, or in some cases, a separate room known as the "trombone stage".

The trombone stage is basically a small, soundproofed, dimly lit room behind the stage. It contains all of the trombonists and an animal control specialist with a laser pointer. This will occupy trombone players well past the duration of a concert.

For when a rehearsal must contain trombones, the music director has a different approach. You may have heard of conductors giving "the hand". For most musicians this means the conductor puts his hand up to quiet them. Trombonists know that "the hand" means a violent slap across the face. This slap is the only way to bring the trombonists out of the imaginary conversations they are having with their instruments (which are telling them to "run to the front of the stage, play a few choice fart tones, and steal every pencil off of every stand if you want to be a real performer").

The hand brings trombonists back to reality just long enough to explain the reasons behind removing Schumann 3 from the performance program.

As long as this world has Frollo-esque music directors, non-trombonists need not fear their writing utensils being stolen. They need not fear a world where the radio only plays trombone choir renditions of "76 Trombones". Life will go on with the trombonists locked away like the ugly bell ringer.

But who knows? This trombonist can only hope that one day our behavior will be accepted by society (Quasimodo was. Even though that little girl felt the need to put her hands all over his face). But until then, I'll be sitting over here. Chasing a laser pointer.

-The Socially Awkward Trombone

This post is dedicated to Lizzie McMizzie, Matt P-----k, and Dave L------i. Thanks for getting me back onto the blogging train even though you probably weren't aware that you did anything. And Mike, thanks for giving me permission to skip my practice session tonight.

Lastly, check out Hip-Bone Music. They're a great resource (and sorry it took 2 years to get you into a post).

Proof

I have a roommate that plays the trombone. She read my blog about trombonists and recorders and sent me some childhood pictures of herself.

See? My blogs aren't always complete fabrications.

 I'm pretty sure the trombonist philosophy "more is better" meant that 2 recorders sounded terrible.

-The Socially Awkward Trombone

You are Such a Dumb

There has been a new development in my research. You have heard me repeat many times that bass trombonists are notorious for being drunken creatures with a fondness of stupidity. It seems that I may have been wrong.

(BUT NOT ENTIRELY WRONG)

Having only switched over to bass bone in the past year and a half, I thought maybe it would take a while for the bass trombone mentality to set in. I waited patiently for my creature to take control of me and force me to drink copious amounts of alcohol before, during, and after every playing session (My fondness towards stupidity cultivated when I picked the trombone. See Soap is NOT Funny).

Alas! this did not happen.

I waited and waited with apprehension for the day when I would no longer get to experience playing the bass trombone sober.

I waited
                     
                                                        and waited
                                           
                                                                                                                               and waited

                           and waited                              and played with my toy Land Rover

                                                                                and waited


and I did not develop a taste for large quantities of alcohol. So I thought that something must be wrong.

My confusion was not for naught (hehe. not for naught). Bass trombonists just seem to talk as if they are always under the influence. You know, slurred words and trouble constructing sentences.

It was after one of my practice sessions that I noticed a change.

My friends laughed at me more. I said crazy things and began using incorrect grammar (Most notably "You are SUCH a dumb!). I began turning certain words plural when they should have been singular. The word lettuce became "a lettuces".

This change snuck up gradually and I never noticed it because I was spending all of my time waiting for my alcoholic monster to take over.

The monster did not take over. I mean, I'm still indulging a Dr. Pepper addiction in my quest to be the stereotypical obese trombonist...OK not really. That's just how I rationalize. I'm trying to quit a little bit. but not really.

The point I'm trying to make is, I'M NOT A DRUNK.

But why do I experience the symptoms?

Do you want to know why?
You don't wanna know.
You wanna know why?
You don't wanna know.
You wanna know why?

Because bass trombone makes you STUPID.

That's right. Stupid.

Symptoms last for different amounts of time depending on how long the musician played the bass trombone. Usually, the amount of time spent in the state of stupidity corresponds with how much time the instrument was played. Basically if you play for an hour, you will sound like an idiot for an hour.

Occasionally there are exceptions. Bass trombonists who have "no chops" are frequently referred to as 'lightweights". If they play for an hour, they sound stupid for 2 hours.

All of this is very scientifical.

Combine these symptoms with a bass trombonist who drinks when not playing, and you get someone who always sounds drunk. Scary.

So now the bass trombonist who was socially awkward to begin with is experiencing bouts of stupidity. It's one thing to introduce awkward sentences  in the presence of normal people, but it's another to say awkward things while appearing to be drunk.

But perhaps the perceived drunken state is more acceptable to the public than just being socially awkward. At least there is an excuse for the inappropriate comments.

The world may never know.

Here is a conversation between a normal person and a bass trombonist who has just finished playing.

Person: "Oh hello. How are you?"
Bass Trombonist: "Good."
Person: "That's great. What have you been up to lately?"
Bass Trombonist: "Caiman Lizards sometimes wear pants."
Person: "Oh really...um. Well,"
Bass Trombonist: "Strawberry are a things. Rhythm stick hit you. A galaxy are funny."
Person: Runs away screaming
Bass Trombonist: "TIDAL SNEEZE TAX!!!!!!!!!!" breaks down into tears.


No matter how hard the bass trombonist tries, the words "nothing much" are impossible to force out. 


So I beg my little audience to please be kind to the bass trombonists that may or may not be drunk. It's a hard life we live and stupidity is the price we pay for our "art". 


-The Socially Awkward Trombone

Elementary Musical Talent

All instruments are not created equal. And if there were one instrument that could be named the "weapon of mass destruction" of all instruments, it's the recorder.

Few instruments cause as much damage as the recorder does. Eardrums have been shattered. Houses set on fire. Children embarrassed. A recorder in the wrong hands turns into a weapon.

In many places, the recorder is the instrument learned in elementary school because music teachers don't believe that young students could learn to play anything else. 

They might be right.

But some students can't learn the recorder.

Now I know what all you normal people are thinking. You think that anyone with the ability to breathe can play the recorder. Well, congratulations ye with so much talent. Recorder came easy to you. So easy that you have eliminated the possibility of the existence of incompetent recorderers....recorderists? recordists?

To the future socially awkward trombonist, recorder will not come naturally. The recorder mixed with the socially awkward trombone gene is the reason why there is a distinct lack of trombonists in every middle school band. I will explain why.

Awkwardness issues in elementary school are widely undetected due to the young age of students and their tendencies to say extremely outrageous things. This makes it difficult for teachers to pick out future trombonists to help through the difficulties of learning the recorder.

The other feature that comes with the trombonist gene is the ability to blow large quantities of hot air without restraint.

The first day the elementary schooler picks up the recorder is an exciting one. Who wouldn't be excited about getting to play an extremely loud and irritating piece of plastic in school?

The excitement quickly evaporates when the teacher explains that there are rules to the recorder. It will not be a free for all. Students will have to learn songs as a class. They will also be expected to practice.

The teacher then proceeds to describe what seems to be everything. How notes are read. How the instrument is held. What a "squeak" is. That the recorder is an instrument and not a lightsaber or any variation on a weapon. During this important overview, the the future trombonist is happily picking a booger while imagining a recorder sword fight. The future bass trombonist is ingesting glue stolen from a previous class, but let's just be happy it's glue and not yet alcohol or large quantities of Dr. Pepper sugary drinks.

After this overview, the children in music class are encouraged to pick up their recorder and- oh wait, Billy has not yet bought a recorder (because he will be a trombonist some day) and must borrow a nasty tasting one that has been sitting in a bucket of disinfectant its entire life.
Now the students may place the recorder in their mouths and hold their fingers over the correct holes. On three, every student will play the same note and then stop when the teacher screams at everyone waves.

One

Two

Th-BBRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

And the first note of the year has been played. The children are looking quite pleased with themselves. At the end of class, the students are told to practice at home so they can get better. Except Billy. He still has no recorder and will probably taste disinfectant at every music class for a year before remembering to buy his own. But lets be real here. Disinfectant has alcohol. If Billy had a chance of a normal life, it's gone. Billy's future will be as a professionally wasted bass trombonist.

As the school year continues, the students reach the point in their short lived musical careers when they can play a song as a class. At first, the song is barely recognizable, but becomes clearer with every music class. However, a great number of squeaks still plague the ensemble.

Future Trombonist (FT): "Man, that person who keeps squeaking sure is a dweeb. Who actually squeaks on a recorder? It's the easiest thing ever. Check this out."
Future trombonist uses nose to play recorder. Then plays Hot Cross Buns very poorly.

The children find the nose display funny, but only laughter is heard. No conversation is struck up with the soon to be social outcast.

A few weeks later and the squeak is still there, masked among the performers.

FT: "Seriously. That squeaker is worse than a mouse. You guys stink!"

It is only 3 weeks from the end of the school year when the future trombonist realizes that the squeak is not the fault of anyone else. The FT has been causing it all along, and now comes to the realization that recorder is not easy. All of that hot and fast air is negatively impacting the sound of the recorder. No one ever explained how to keep it from squeaking, and now there is no hope at musical success.

This all leads to an embarrassing and awkward moment of reckoning for the future trombonist.

The future trombonist is forced to reconcile with the fact that playing the recorder (aka "the easiest instrument in the world) is going to be impossible.

But who really cares? It's not like the trombonist learned anything about the recorder. Really all the FT did was watch everyone else's fingers to see what was supposed to happen. Notes and rhythms were never learned because the FT was too busy with booger picking.

But future trombonists don't know this. They didn't even know that they weren't paying attention. These young people may never pick up the trombone because they are led to believe that if they can't play an instrument as easy as the recorder, then they can't play any instrument at all. It is only the really delusional ones that decide to continue music, and this is what ends up populating middle school trombone sections.

Most of the students who would have picked up the trombone quit music before they get the chance to try one out.

Somehow there are still a few kids that go on to play trombone. Even after every indication of their musical ability says that they are incapable of music, they persevere. But just think, if the recorder didn't discourage future trombonists, we would have waaaaaaay more of them.

That's what every music teacher wants. Right?                     conspiracies. 

THE END

Disclaimer: Sometimes when played professionally, the recorder can be considered relevant and maybe even pretty sounding. It's just that I have yet to hear or see (ew) good things come out of the $10 recorder of a 9 year old. Also, I still can't play the recorder and refuse to ever pick up the instrument again unless Bob Hallett is willing to give me lessons. And technically, I don't even think Bob plays recorder, but if he did, it would be tolerable sounding.

I think I'll stick with bass bone and my Dr. Pepper addiction. Which reminds me. The next post will examine the possibility that maybe not all bass trombonists are drunken lunatics. Doesn't sound too promising though...

p.s. The Art of Bass Trombone is live. Click the tab.

-The Socially Awkward Trombone

Raffles and Morbidity Conferences

In this world, there are quite a few awkward locations and situations that the bourgeois do not want to find themselves in (see, I CAN use big words).


For example,

• Having to attend a circus show with someone who spins signs for a living and thinks they could be a better tightrope walker than the performers. 
• Standing in a room with the largest piece of domino art ever and trying to control your recent uprising of leg spasms. One misplaced kick...
• Getting to a Lamaze party and expecting drinks 'cause you're a dude and don't know what a Lamaze is. Then being disappointed. Lamaze does not mean "get drunk and run through a corn maze". (also, Lamaze party? what?) 
• Accidentally chopping off multiple appendages while in the library. There's no screaming in the library.
• Becoming captain of the "blood vessel" and then realizing your doctor was only joking. You aren't really getting a ship. You're just not going to be able to see for a few days.
• Having to speak at a trombone conference and an amateur astronomers convention in the same week when you know nothing about either subject.

These are all situations and locations that most individuals would find uncomfortable.  

BUT WAIT!

None of those include potty humor.

That's because I always save the best for later. 

Here's the scenario:

You are a trombonist sitting in a small auditorium. This particular auditorium does not have many people in it. You have no reason to be there except you needed to drive an interested party to this auditorium for a talk and are now waiting on said party to leave the auditorium. 

But it's not over. And you just missed your chance to excuse yourself to the lobby that contains a place to watch Doctor Who undisturbed. 

A person who works at the auditorium wheels in a cart with stuff on it. Stuff that makes no sense to you.

The room falls quiet.

It's a raffle you never entered and now must sit through. There are a bunch of items up on that stage. You realize that you are happy you never entered the raffle.

The person who wheeled the cart in is now reading out numbers and audience members are coming up to claim their raffle prizes. 

2283845 just won something that looked like a moldy sandwich.

2283870 has been called six times....about to pull another number when "OH WAIT! You said 70?! That's me." rings across the audience.

At this point you are noticing some bodily discomfort.

2283859 won a blobfish.

This is more than some discomfort, and they're really moving through these numbers fast. 

2238312 won salami candle wax.

You need to excuse yourself to the bathroom and are about to do so. Suddenly you stop. If you get up, someone is going to think you won an item. If someone thinks you won an item, you will have to explain that you are just going to the bathroom in front of the entire auditorium. The conversation has the potential to go something like this. 

you (trombonist) stand up

Raffler: "Congratulations!"

Trombonist: "Wha? Oh no. Im- bathroom."

Raffler: "Come on. Just get your prize. It's not as bad as it looks. I swear it's just brown frosting." 

Trombonist: "But I didn't-"

Raffler: "Didn't enter? Nice try."

Trombonist: "I didn't. I'm just getting up to-"

Raffler: "To come get your prize. Don't be shy. Just come on up h-"

Trombonist: "I WAS JUST GETTING UP TO POOP OKAY!?"

End scenario.

Ha! Bet that's something you never contemplated before. What does a person do to get out of a raffle without drawing attention to themselves?

Here are some brilliant solutions for if you ever find yourself in this kind of a pickle.

Solution 1: See above scenario.

Solution 2: Either try to make it until the end of the raffle or just poop yourself then and there. That'll show 'em.

Solution 3 WARNING: REQUIRES EXTREME SKILL If trombonist, do not attempt:
 Quickly dive to the floor. Slink your way under the seats without touching the legs of people sitting in the seats because touching people you don't know is awkward. Work your way uphill to the back door of the auditorium. There will be a moment between the seats and the door when you are exposed. It is your job to make the quickest dash possible for the door without looking like you're a criminal who just stole something. If you hear angry shouting as the door closes behind you, forego the bathroom and find a place to hide from the police. If you hear a small noise like someone trying to ask if you won the raffle, just go potty.

Solution 4: Stand up and then pretend to pass out. Assuming you are not at a "Convention of Morbidity" raffle, someone will call an ambulance. At that point you can request a bedpan or just go anyway. No one will judge you. You just passed out after all.

Solution 5: Stand up with your trombone. You will look so awkward that everyone will try not to look at you. Bask in the silence a moment and then leave. No one will say a word.

So now you know how to handle the awkward raffle situation.

Also, the new page is still under construction. "The Art of Bass Trombone".

Also, sometimes I leave this on while I write.
http://breadfish.de/
You should click the link. It's life changing.

-The Socially Awkward Trombone

Coming Soon

        Everyone be warned.

                                 A new page is under construction.

               Nazgul's everywhere are taking flight. They fear the new page.

                                                                     It is awkward.

                      A new page of awkwardness.

                                                                                      Are you ready?

This is a blobfish.

You have been warned.