Slow Dancing, Band Concerts, and Clinics. Oh My!

Yeah, so we all know about these things. You sweat out of control, you're terrified and shaking, and sometimes you fall asleep. For most people, it takes time and confidence to become okay with it, and other times the utmost amount of will power to continue to pay attention. But in the end- all of this is worth it. The first time for everything is scary, but after it's over the adrenaline makes the event so much more worth it and memorable.

Ahhh, slow dancing! It reminds you of couples, physical contact, and kissing. That one magical hour where you can look into your lover's eyes and bond over the magic of music. Ever experienced that? Yeah, me neither. For us young'uns, slow dancing is the utmost level of torture brought on to us by our P.E. teacher. And when you have to dance with your brothers' best friend...... bring on the sweat and klutziness.

Level of awkward: 3 cool 5 you

Image courtesy of 8tracks

Ironically, I did have some good experiences slow dancing with people of the opposite gender. Crazy, Right? My school does a fundraiser called the Sweetheart Gala, which raises the money for the ability for us to have nice things, as long as we manage not to ruin them. Unfortunately, I had to work the Gala this year, which means I had to do a job to contribute to the event. Once I finished my job, I was excused to leave or dance, and I obviously chose to dance.

But how can I dance if I don't have a partner? More importantly, how can I dance if I don't know how? I was looking around sort of worried, but one of the graduate students from the band program offered to teach me how to dance. We enjoyed dancing to a delightful tune called Beyond The Sea played by the Park City High School Varsity Jazz Ensemble. After the song ended, he requested me to pick someone else out to dance with.

Hardest. Task. Ever. Like, what if I get rejected? Oh well, worth a shot. Luckily, I found one of my best friends standing along the dance floor, and I asked him to join me. Both of us enjoyed ourselves for one song, and then the set ended for the ensemble.

The night after the Gala, Little Big Band had a concert. We shared the night with Caleb Chapman's Voodoo Orchestra and Siren Sounds. We played some pieces by ourselves, and shared the stage with the Siren Sounds for a bit.  Our main hit was Cry Me A River, but we also played Big Noise From Winnetka, Blue Moon, Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy, It Don't Mean A Thing, and Mr. Zoot Suit.

After our perfomance, we were required to stay and support the other bands. There was a dance floor, so naturally I was on it. Eventually, a slow song came on, how awkward. So me being me (I'm actually sorry if you know me in real life) high on dopamine and all the good brain drugs, I asked a boy to dance, and I didn't get rejected (if you know me, that's a real shocker).  We danced together to the Voodoo Orchestra, and I taught him some dance moves. It was really rather fun if you can get over the fact that your partner may have deadly cooties.

The latest performance we had was at the Peaks Jazz Festival. The festival was on a Friday and Saturday, which means I got to skip school, and the fear of cooties. The beginning of the festival is a competition between school bands around the state. Luckily, our school bands didn't have to compete. I went with a fellow trombonist Jake, and we went to most of the clinics together. Unfortunately, we went to a rather cruddy clinic at about nine in the morning, after we found out that Jake can't read maps. That was helpful. In the clinic, it was one hundred or so people listening to Karl Hunter talk about tours.

It was pain. Literally, I looked pain up in the dictionary and it showed a picture of the lecture. Jake almost fell asleep. It was bad. It was an hour not even close to paying attention to. Even the schools competing were more enjoyable. Dave Pietro managed to keep our attention because he taught us about scales in improv, which wasn't as painful.

Image courtesy of Wherevent

Friday night was the night Little Big Band preformed. We had two performances, one of which I made Jake come to.  Our set for that night was Cry Me A River, Mr. P.C., and the raise-the-roof Gordon Godwin tune, The Jazz Police. It was a good concert. Of course, we had to play those tunes again later that night, but it was even better because Herbie Hancock and Victor Lopez were in the room. 

As usual, we had to support the bands and stay for the entire concert. I must congratulate Bryan Croce for his performance, because we all know it was perfect. Jake and I met up after his set, which was amazing. Victory was achieved that night, because I got Jake to dance a bit while Bryan was playing, which was the bomb because I'm pretty sure Jake doesn't like to dance. 

Overall, the festival was a blast. I got to play with Tom Bones Malone while I was there, which was cool. But something weird happened. When I went to solo, all I did was close my eyes and focus on my horn. I kind of just played. It never occurred to me to play the right notes, stay in style, or anything like that. I just played. My solo was five choruses long, and when I opened my eyes I felt warm and tingly. 

After my solo was done, I talked to Bryan about it, and he said I caught all of the changes and played well. I told Jake and William about my feelings, and they told me it was a musical "goosebumps" moment. Of course, a pat on the back and a "Great solo!" from Tom Bones Malone didn't help. The goosebumps are great, and they are the entire reason I do music. I loved that experience, and having memories of them are what make my persistence and hard work as a growing musician worthwhile.