Musical Memories

Those who know me outside of work know of my love for music. I grew up in a home where music was all around me every day. I grew up in a baptist church where the singing of hymns was a weekly highlight. Starting in seventh grade, I finally picked up a trumpet, and my life has never been the same. Don't get me wrong - I will never make a living playing music. I love playing at church every chance I get, and still sing (or drum) along with the radio as I drive to work in the morning. However, I'm not like an American Idol wannabe that has dreams of grandeur - I know my limits, and just love to play!

For some reason this week, I've been thinking about the musical highlights in my life. Not all involve my playing; they're just moments in my life where I felt an amazing connection to the music. In writing these out, I am not trying to weave a fascinating tale or share a great story. It's more about me putting my thoughts down on paper (or on screen, as it were). It is by no means an all inclusive list; I'm sure as time goes on, I'll add to it.

Here's a start...

There are a few Conservative Baptist Churches in the Portland Area. When I was in grade school, 3-4 of the churches would arrange an "all-church sing". One church would host the others for a combined Sunday evening service, and spend the entire evening singing. Take a church like Hinson Baptist, which probably holds anywhere from 500-750 people, and pack it full. Add old hymns - you know the ones - Wonderful Grace of Jesus, Leaning on the Everlasting Arms, To God Be The Glory; mix them all in full four part harmony. The sound was amazing - full and rich - enough to make you stop singing and just listen. They don't write them (or sing them) like that anymore!

Organ Grinder - Simply described, a fair to middling pizza joint built around a massive pipe organ. You've never heard the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey until you've heard it on a hot Friday night with a mouthful of pizza. I seem to remember someone saying that they had some sort of permit to exceed the noise ordinances on Friday nights - by the time the song reached its' peak, everything not nailed down in that place was shaking, including your internal organs. Alas, the restaurant no longer exists, and the mighty Wurlitzer Organ now has been parted out.

Let me start this entry by saying the sacrilegious; I really hated marching band. There's something about trying to play a musical instrument while taking a five mile hike that never really set well with me. One thing I loved though was the indoor music practices. In Jr. High, students were split into four bands, in high school, two bands. Each band had their own music they played, and the separate bands never joined - except in marching band. I always loved the first few practices where we stayed in the band room to work out the music. There was something about switching from a small concert band of 20-30 people to a huge group of over 100. Just the sheer volume - the power when the low brass kicked in, the drum line causing your heart to skip a beat, how full the woodwinds sounded. It just took everything I loved about playing trumpet and brought it to a new level.

If you never were able to see Rich Mullins in concert, you missed a lot. The music may have not been as polished as you'd hear on a CD, but the conversations between songs were amazing. He could go on for 10 minutes about something, but you didn't mind. He would stand there in his bare feet, talking politics, the church, the music industry, whatever - just sharing his passion for God. And musically, every time I read or hear James 2:20, saying that "faith without works in dead", I picture Rich singing "Screendoor on a Submarine" acapella in four part harmony with the band, accompanied by the rhythm of the five of them playing percussion with big plastic cups. Check it out on You-Tube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lZzp1u1PDQ

Spyro Gyra was one of my favorite jazz groups in the early 80's - I saw them at the Mt. Hood Festival of Jazz in 1983. I recall at one point that the percussionist wanted to make some noise, so instead of picking up one particular piece of percussion, he simply picked up the rack from which all of his percussion instruments were hanging and shook the whole rack. Wow.

Maynard Ferguson is in my top 5 favorite trumpet players of all time. He is not the most technically correct of the horn payers, but he could play in the upper register with such ease and power. That, and he always surrounded himself with a band that killed! I saw him in concert twice - in '83 and '85. One piece he played often was The Beatles "Hey Jude". At the end of the song where the lyrics are simply, "nah, nah, nah, na-na-na-nah, na-na-na-nah, Hey Jude", the trumpet section would leave the stage and spread out through the audience while the rest of the band carried the tune on stage. Once positioned, they would join in - all playing that melody live, but at a range I have only wished to approach. I had Maynard's lead player Stan Mark standing directly behind my seat, legs braced, leaning back, and just nailing it. I couldn't hear right for a week, but boy, was it worth it. Sadly, Maynard passed on a couple of years ago, but he has left behind a legacy of horn players that carry on that same energy today.

That's probably enough for now - I'm sure more will come to mind.