stringing you along: part 2

I can safely assert that I have taken excellent care of my cello(s), at least since age 12. ish.

Certainly, I have taken extra good care of my final-destination-adult-sized cello, which is still in my possession. You have been with me since I was 14. You have been my friend. You have been eerily in tune for most of the last thirteen years. (I am 27. 27-14=13. Ahem.) And your strings have NEVER broken. (Which is, for all you non string players out there, quite miraculous.)

Until last night. The unthinkable happened!! Poor ancient C string. Your days are over. Forever. There is nothing left for you now.

Luckily, I have this ancient stash of extra strings in my kitty music bag. (thanks mom, those cats will live forever). I know replacing a dead ancient string with a non-dead ancient string is asking for trouble, but we shall see. Maybe this next string will last another 13 years.

But the thing is, I had never changed a string. In all my 22 years of playing the cello, I never changed a string. NEVER! I was like a fake musician. A wolf in musicians clothing. I was false. But I knew this day would come. The day of exposure and then my true colors would shine forth.

And my true color did shine when, last night, with the help of YouTube, I changed my poor broken ancient C string and swapped it for a new (albeit ancient) one. And it worked! I so rock. And I did it with the clock ticking. (I might have perhaps procrastinated practicing something until 1 hour before the practice started, at which point I discovered the death of said C string. And I even had time left to practice. And write in fingerings.)

So thank you very much, the wolf has gone. Now I can say I am a true musician because:

1) I can string a cello

2) laura's cello and I are friends
3) I can play the cello in the dark

And, NO, you can't borrow my cello. Sorry. I do not feel bad about this.

For the sake of posterity, this post was written on 3/24/2011, and my string broke on 3/23.

stringing you along: part 1

Dear laura's cello,

You have been good to me.

But, historically speaking, have I been good to you? I might have mistreated several of your predecessors. When you start playing a musical instrument at the tender age of 5, you should expect havoc. Poor little baby cellos.

1) There was the bow-under-the-couch-cushion incident (resulting in a broken bow hanging by the hairs...), but that is behind us now. I think I was 5 or 6 years old at the time.

2) Then I might have accidentally stepped on a medium sized predecessor (which left a crack in the side of the lower body). But I was only 8 years old!

3) I might have doodled on you with the metal end of the bow a few times (in my former years as a callous youth. Yes, it was an evil horrific action on my part.) I want to say that I doodled on the same cello I had already stepped on, so it was a lost cause anyway:)

4) I have tripped over you and knocked you over numerous times. Too many to count! Cellos are tricky things. Beware of the end pin. Beware of the bridge. Beware of the scroll. They all protrude from the cello. Luckily, my mother believed in carpet.

5) Then came the day that I got the hard cello case. I still have you, laura's hard cello case. Of the original 5 shiny buckle clasps, only 3 are still in working order (and one was torn off at some point). When did Leslie marry Russ? That is the year I got you, dear cello case. Before that, I had only the flimsy cloth case, hence the occurrence of #2. I want to say I was 12 years old. Maybe mid 1990s. I have abused you too, poor case. I have kicked you, scratched you, stepped on you, and even sat on you. Intentionally. Yes, you did make a nice seat on occasion. But, you are awkward to carry and were always bruising my leg. So maybe we're even.

Thanks for everything. (more like, sorry for everything.)

Sincerely,

laura's cello's owner, A.K.A., LRH