“I call this piece “Recorder Surrounded by Flames.” I think that recorders are pretty badass. One time I saw this street musician playing “Big Rock Candy Mountain” on the recorder and when he was finished, he set the recorder on fire. You know, kind of like Jimi Hendrix. Obviously that didn’t actually happen. But wouldn’t it have been cool if it did?”
-From my current obsession, nostomanic. I’ll have you know that my 4th grade self was consumed by the nerdish badassery that was The Recorder. Y’all shoulda heard me blat out “Au Claire de la Lune” in my 4th grade recorder concert. It brought the all-parent-and-occassionally-sibling audience to tears…in my 4th grade recorder stardom-related dreams.
Y’know, my elementary love and determination to be the most badass recorder player in the U. S. of A. was not unlike that of Karen Brewer’s tuba-love in Karen’s Tuba from the Babysitters Club spin-off series Babysitter’s Little Sister: Dorky, imaginative, elementary school kid faced with the task of playing one of the geekiest (or, if you’re one of those people, “underrated”) instruments of all-time and being determined to soldier through the ordeal by becoming a world-class, Carnegie Hall-worthy expert on it. Except I’d like to think I wasn’t quite the brat that Karen Brewer was. That kid was a holy terror.
Then again, I did recently find one of my mom’s old journals from when I was 4, and while there weren’t many entries in there, nearly all of them mentioned some horrible tantrum I’d thrown that day…Dear God, please tell me I was not the Nashville equivalent of Karen Brewer. That would be a gigundo cross to bear.