I'm on the most fascinating journey of my life
Posted: Thu Jan 23, 2025 4:22 pm
This is a very personal post. I'd love to hear your thoughts, but understand that nothing I say here is intended to apply generally, it's all just about my own personal journey.
21 months ago I picked up the trombone for the first time in 30 years.
I had just retired from a post-music career in law, and had bought a home, sight unseen, in the country, 150 miles from a major city. A handful of miles outside a quaint little gold rush era town in the Sierra Nevada mountains in Northern California, it seemed the perfect location to retire. Close to a small town and an hour from a medium size city, it was a place I could have a large organic sustainable garden, keep my 9 (at the time) show dogs, and raise livestock if I wanted to. Clean air, no traffic, room to breathe. It was the fulfillment of a dream.
My home is not completely off-grid, but close. We have electricity. Everything else we have to fend for ourselves. Our water comes from a >60 gallon per minute well, and additionally we have an artesian spring bringing a stream of cold, clean water bubbling up right out of the ground that feeds a nearby pond. We have a 500 gallon propane tank for gas and Starlink for internet. My view is mountains, forest, meadows, ponds, and streams.
It's my own little slice of peaceful retirement paradise.
The realtor told us that our homestead was at the perfect elevation: Above the valley fog and right at the snow line so we'd get an inch or two of snow a few times a year. It would be pretty but not a problem, she said.
Then came winter.
The first February came with an event the locals have now dubbed "Snowmageddon." We got five feet of snow in the first 48 hours, and then it just kept coming and coming for the next 12 days, into March. We were not remotely prepared for this. The power went out the first day, and stayed out for three weeks. Two 150-foot pine trees fell over, one of which gave a glancing blow to my house, causing damage that still isn't completely fixed. During the ensuing three weeks we had no electricity, heat, water, phones or internet. Our road didn't get plowed for a long time, and we were stuck camping in our own home.
This was Day 2 of Snowmageddon, after shoveling my driveway after Day 1. It continued for two more weeks.
Even before winter came, I found retirement difficult. I had moved to an area when I knew no one. Without a career, I had nothing to do. I felt lonely and isolated, and I had no purpose, no friends, no family but my spouse, and no social life.
And then Snowmageddon hit.
Frustrated, unhappy, and at the end of my rope, one day while camping in the dark in my snowbound home, I turned to my wonderful spouse and said, "I've had it. I didn't sign up for this. I'm very unhappy, and I regret our decision to move up here. Let's sell this house and move back to L.A."
She didn't answer right away. Instead, when the snow melted she went out and bought me a trombone from a Bay Area trombonist who had advertised a horn for sale. She presented it to me, and said, "Here. Play this. We're not moving." She had bought me a small bore Bach 16 because she heard that I had played Bach Strads previously. It came with a 7C mouthpiece and a soft gig bag.
And so began my incredible journey.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
April 5, 2023: Day 1 of trombone playing. That first day I couldn't even get a sound out my new horn. Over and over I tried to find an embouchure and produce an identifiable note. I couldn't do it. I had to ask the guy who sold it to my spouse to play it for me just so I could hear what it sounded like.
After a week I could play a two-octave major scale. And then improvement started coming very fast.
After a month I had a rudimentary version of speed, flexibility and range, and I recorded myself noodling around.
I joined two community bands, who welcomed me with open arms. I made friends. I had something fun to do. And I was starting to find the first few steps of the path I'm on today. That path is defined by joy and gratitude in music, in sharing my musical experience with others, and in the human connections I was developing.
But my progress was so quick I outgrew the community bands pretty quickly. By July 4th I was frustrated with the lack of musicianship in my community bands. The July 4th concert found me struggling to play with a trombone section that had no sense of pitch and blasted loud like they were in the USC marching band. I couldn't deal with it. It was holding me back and the fun was slipping away. So I quit those bands. I made some lifetime friends there, though, and I still play with some of them.
I had been invited to play in a local trombone choir called the Paleobones; so named because all the players were ancient. Its titular leader was (and remains) Jeff Reynolds, former bass trombonist of the L.A. Philharmonic for 42 years. He had retired a decade or so before me, and unbeknownst to me had move to the same area. He and I had done some of the same work in L.A. decades prior, and if was a joy to discover that Jefe was practically a neighbor of mine. The Paleobones was also incredibly welcoming, and I started learning who the trombonists in the region were. I continued to improve, and it wasn't long before they had me playing the first chair because (1) I could play the high notes and (2) I wasn't afraid to make a fool of myself. And to this day I continue to make a fool of myself in that group. The music is very challenging, and I don't think I've ever left a Paleobones rehearsal or performance feeling like I nailed it. I probably never will.
When I first did Paleobones, I only had that Bach 16, while everyone else played large bore horns. So, I did two things: I bought a large bore tenor (silver Christian Lindberg 88H from 2000) and another small bore (Bach Stradivarius 16M with a gold brass bell), and started working on them.
By September 2023, I was starting to pick up some work. I was hired to play in two local minor symphony orchestras. I also got a gig with a good professional big band that backed up various singers, which was the best group I played in up to that time.
From there I got hired to play a gig with Jacam Manricks' big band when the guy originally hired to play 2nd trombone developed something akin to focal dystonia and had to take time off. Jacam's band was put together for a specific gig, and about half the band -- including all the trombone players except me -- were brought up from L.A. It included guys like Barry Finnerty (Airto Moreira, Flora Purim, Joe Farrell quartet, Hubert Laws, Tower of Power, Thad Jones and Mel Lewis, Brecker Bros., The Crusaders, Billy Cobham, Miles Davis, etc.), Mike Rocha (trumpet in Gordon Goodwin's Phat Band), Jon Hatamiya (trombone - discussed on this forum), and other good players. We all sightread the gig. It was my first test of sight reading since starting up again.
December 2023 was incredibly busy for me, as I started to get hired for a wide variety of gigs, almost all of them as a sub for someone else or when the first (and second) call person turned the gigs down. I continued to play with a variety of community groups (and still do), but the work I got that month put me on the map for the better professional gigs in the region.
Also, I began to develop relationships with the better players in the area, and started working with them. In fact, that September gig with Jacam Manricks hooked me up with the people I now play with the most. In April 2024 I did a recording project to mark my progress. I've posted four of those tunes here.
All of the people in Jacam's rhythm section that I met on that September gig now play in my own jazz group, and they also played on the four tunes I recorded that I have posted here, along with Jacam who both played on the project and arranged two of the tunes ("The Shadow of Your Smile" and "Alone").
By April 2024 I figured I was pretty much "back," and had become a proficient player again. While to this day I still don't have the chops I had before quitting for 30 years, and my never get those back, I had gotten good enough that I could play anything I was asked to play, and could sight read well enough to play anything that has ever been asked of me, including features.
I then bought a bass trombone (Greenhoe Bach 50), and after only a month of working on it landed a gig playing it on Les Miserables, which gave me OJT getting my bass trombone chops up to snuff. Now I get calls for jazz gigs on my 16M, for classical gigs on my 88H, and for bass trombone on my Greenhoe Bach 50, so I'm actively working with all three horns. Plus, I continue to play in a variety of community groups, a regional rock band, and a salsa band. So 18 months into the adventure I found myself playing many different kinds of music, on three different horns, and working with the best professionals in the region (which isn't that impressive when you remember it's a "big fish, small pond" situation compared to working in NYC or L.A.).
And because I bought a home in the country, I have to drive 1 to 3 hours each way for music, which I now do almost daily. I'm putting a lot of miles on my car. Fortunately, my Tesla is super cheap to drive, and since I'm driving at least 100 miles a day to rehearsals and gigs I use its self-driving feature so the drives don't become a drag, and I get there fresh and ready to go, and use the drive time to buzz on my mouthpiece. I have lots of musician friends, and I'm getting called for all kinds of gigs. Honestly, when I look back to Snowmageddon and being so unhappy with retirement and my move, I can't even recognize that life or that person anymore.
I thank all the gods that ever were that my spouse bought me that horn when she did, and that she's so incredibly supportive of my music. She even likes to come with me. She went to my Hipnosis rehearsal last night, she's going to a big band rehearsal with me tonight, and she's going to my Slide gig tomorrow. I could not have dreamed up a more wonderful musician's spouse.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Today I got called to play some more gigs with Jacam Manricks, a NYC recording artist, originally from Australia, who moved to my region for his wife's career (and in my book earned the Husband of the Decade Award for that). He's the real deal, man. Amazing jazz mind. On his gigs I get to play with the very best professional musicians in the region and beyond, so it's always fantastic.
And while up until mid-2024 I was always called as a sub for someone else, starting last summer I started getting the calls first. So, progress! Yay!
But that came with a weird phenomenon. As I got better and better, and began to develop a reputation as a good player, I actually started missing out on work. When I'd inquire, they would often tell me, "Well, I didn't think my gig would be good enough for you, so I didn't call." Wait, what??? I play in some really terrible community bands, and you think your paying gig wouldn't be good enough for...me!?!?!?!. Man, that was some weird stuff to deal with.
And that led to another weird phenomenon, or weird for me anyway. Here I am just taking joy in getting to play anywhere, with anyone, good or bad, and having a fantastic time doing it. I'm all about the joy these days, and about the camaraderie, and the relationships with musicians. I just dig it all. I don't have a big ego about it. I never consider myself too good for anything at all, even as I continue to improve. After all, it wasn't long ago I couldn't even play a single note! And I make no distinctions between players, no matter their status. Everyone is a musician, everyone has something to teach me, and everyone is a joy to play with for one reason or another. I'm all about the joy and gratitude now. And because I don't have to earn a living with music, I'm not competitive, I won't take gigs that will displace someone else, and I'm super laid back and looking for the fun in everything I do.
But people are starting to think differently about me. I have worked hard and developed a good reputation. But that comes with consequences in the form of responsibility.
These days, I can't have a bad or lazy day playing. It's not like it was in the early days with community bands where it's low stress and accepting. If someone calls me these days, they expect a really good player. I have to give my best performance every time. In fact, many times I get called specifically because they want that performance. In 2023, it was all about having fun and learning and developing relationships. Nowadays, it's about fulfilling someone else's expectations. It comes with money, but it also comes with pressure. I'll probably never be the player I once was, but I am expected to be that player, now.
And while it comes with the pressure of expectations, it also comes with much more musical satisfaction for me. There is no sex, there is no drug in the world as powerful for me as playing great music with great musicians. Where the pitch is perfect, the music is perfect, where everyone is on top of their game, and there is a quiet intensity to it. Those situations are filled with expectations and pressure, but they're also the easiest playing there is. When everything is in tune, it's easy to play in tune. When the time is perfect, it's easy to play perfectly in time. And when the musicianship is high, it's easy to be my best self. So playing in these situations lets me become more self-actualized in the moment, and be the musician I want to be. And my goodness, that's as much fun as you can have with your clothes on.
In April this year I will have been back playing for two years. I'm going to mark my progress for year 2 with a recital or concert of some kind. I'm looking forward to that. I'm starting to write, to hire others for my own projects, and to become a broader musician than just a trombone player.
I have friends, a social network, plenty to do, and things I can take pride in. I make a fool of myself now and then, but I always go for it. I'm never cautious. And that feels really exciting.\
This has been the most amazing 21 months of my life. During Snowmageddon I never could have imagined the path I have taken since then, the friends I've made along the way, and how far I have come in such a short time. It has been like riding a rocket! And I am literally having the best time of my life right now.
I can't wait to discover what the next 21 months has in store for me.
My point is, the trombone can do amazing and unexpected things in your life if you let it.
That's it. If you've read this far, you need to get off the computer and get a life! LOL!
But thanks for hanging in there with my self-indulgent life story. Ciao!
21 months ago I picked up the trombone for the first time in 30 years.
I had just retired from a post-music career in law, and had bought a home, sight unseen, in the country, 150 miles from a major city. A handful of miles outside a quaint little gold rush era town in the Sierra Nevada mountains in Northern California, it seemed the perfect location to retire. Close to a small town and an hour from a medium size city, it was a place I could have a large organic sustainable garden, keep my 9 (at the time) show dogs, and raise livestock if I wanted to. Clean air, no traffic, room to breathe. It was the fulfillment of a dream.
My home is not completely off-grid, but close. We have electricity. Everything else we have to fend for ourselves. Our water comes from a >60 gallon per minute well, and additionally we have an artesian spring bringing a stream of cold, clean water bubbling up right out of the ground that feeds a nearby pond. We have a 500 gallon propane tank for gas and Starlink for internet. My view is mountains, forest, meadows, ponds, and streams.
It's my own little slice of peaceful retirement paradise.
The realtor told us that our homestead was at the perfect elevation: Above the valley fog and right at the snow line so we'd get an inch or two of snow a few times a year. It would be pretty but not a problem, she said.
Then came winter.
The first February came with an event the locals have now dubbed "Snowmageddon." We got five feet of snow in the first 48 hours, and then it just kept coming and coming for the next 12 days, into March. We were not remotely prepared for this. The power went out the first day, and stayed out for three weeks. Two 150-foot pine trees fell over, one of which gave a glancing blow to my house, causing damage that still isn't completely fixed. During the ensuing three weeks we had no electricity, heat, water, phones or internet. Our road didn't get plowed for a long time, and we were stuck camping in our own home.
This was Day 2 of Snowmageddon, after shoveling my driveway after Day 1. It continued for two more weeks.
Even before winter came, I found retirement difficult. I had moved to an area when I knew no one. Without a career, I had nothing to do. I felt lonely and isolated, and I had no purpose, no friends, no family but my spouse, and no social life.
And then Snowmageddon hit.
Frustrated, unhappy, and at the end of my rope, one day while camping in the dark in my snowbound home, I turned to my wonderful spouse and said, "I've had it. I didn't sign up for this. I'm very unhappy, and I regret our decision to move up here. Let's sell this house and move back to L.A."
She didn't answer right away. Instead, when the snow melted she went out and bought me a trombone from a Bay Area trombonist who had advertised a horn for sale. She presented it to me, and said, "Here. Play this. We're not moving." She had bought me a small bore Bach 16 because she heard that I had played Bach Strads previously. It came with a 7C mouthpiece and a soft gig bag.
And so began my incredible journey.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
April 5, 2023: Day 1 of trombone playing. That first day I couldn't even get a sound out my new horn. Over and over I tried to find an embouchure and produce an identifiable note. I couldn't do it. I had to ask the guy who sold it to my spouse to play it for me just so I could hear what it sounded like.
After a week I could play a two-octave major scale. And then improvement started coming very fast.
After a month I had a rudimentary version of speed, flexibility and range, and I recorded myself noodling around.
I joined two community bands, who welcomed me with open arms. I made friends. I had something fun to do. And I was starting to find the first few steps of the path I'm on today. That path is defined by joy and gratitude in music, in sharing my musical experience with others, and in the human connections I was developing.
But my progress was so quick I outgrew the community bands pretty quickly. By July 4th I was frustrated with the lack of musicianship in my community bands. The July 4th concert found me struggling to play with a trombone section that had no sense of pitch and blasted loud like they were in the USC marching band. I couldn't deal with it. It was holding me back and the fun was slipping away. So I quit those bands. I made some lifetime friends there, though, and I still play with some of them.
I had been invited to play in a local trombone choir called the Paleobones; so named because all the players were ancient. Its titular leader was (and remains) Jeff Reynolds, former bass trombonist of the L.A. Philharmonic for 42 years. He had retired a decade or so before me, and unbeknownst to me had move to the same area. He and I had done some of the same work in L.A. decades prior, and if was a joy to discover that Jefe was practically a neighbor of mine. The Paleobones was also incredibly welcoming, and I started learning who the trombonists in the region were. I continued to improve, and it wasn't long before they had me playing the first chair because (1) I could play the high notes and (2) I wasn't afraid to make a fool of myself. And to this day I continue to make a fool of myself in that group. The music is very challenging, and I don't think I've ever left a Paleobones rehearsal or performance feeling like I nailed it. I probably never will.
When I first did Paleobones, I only had that Bach 16, while everyone else played large bore horns. So, I did two things: I bought a large bore tenor (silver Christian Lindberg 88H from 2000) and another small bore (Bach Stradivarius 16M with a gold brass bell), and started working on them.
By September 2023, I was starting to pick up some work. I was hired to play in two local minor symphony orchestras. I also got a gig with a good professional big band that backed up various singers, which was the best group I played in up to that time.
From there I got hired to play a gig with Jacam Manricks' big band when the guy originally hired to play 2nd trombone developed something akin to focal dystonia and had to take time off. Jacam's band was put together for a specific gig, and about half the band -- including all the trombone players except me -- were brought up from L.A. It included guys like Barry Finnerty (Airto Moreira, Flora Purim, Joe Farrell quartet, Hubert Laws, Tower of Power, Thad Jones and Mel Lewis, Brecker Bros., The Crusaders, Billy Cobham, Miles Davis, etc.), Mike Rocha (trumpet in Gordon Goodwin's Phat Band), Jon Hatamiya (trombone - discussed on this forum), and other good players. We all sightread the gig. It was my first test of sight reading since starting up again.
December 2023 was incredibly busy for me, as I started to get hired for a wide variety of gigs, almost all of them as a sub for someone else or when the first (and second) call person turned the gigs down. I continued to play with a variety of community groups (and still do), but the work I got that month put me on the map for the better professional gigs in the region.
Also, I began to develop relationships with the better players in the area, and started working with them. In fact, that September gig with Jacam Manricks hooked me up with the people I now play with the most. In April 2024 I did a recording project to mark my progress. I've posted four of those tunes here.
All of the people in Jacam's rhythm section that I met on that September gig now play in my own jazz group, and they also played on the four tunes I recorded that I have posted here, along with Jacam who both played on the project and arranged two of the tunes ("The Shadow of Your Smile" and "Alone").
By April 2024 I figured I was pretty much "back," and had become a proficient player again. While to this day I still don't have the chops I had before quitting for 30 years, and my never get those back, I had gotten good enough that I could play anything I was asked to play, and could sight read well enough to play anything that has ever been asked of me, including features.
I then bought a bass trombone (Greenhoe Bach 50), and after only a month of working on it landed a gig playing it on Les Miserables, which gave me OJT getting my bass trombone chops up to snuff. Now I get calls for jazz gigs on my 16M, for classical gigs on my 88H, and for bass trombone on my Greenhoe Bach 50, so I'm actively working with all three horns. Plus, I continue to play in a variety of community groups, a regional rock band, and a salsa band. So 18 months into the adventure I found myself playing many different kinds of music, on three different horns, and working with the best professionals in the region (which isn't that impressive when you remember it's a "big fish, small pond" situation compared to working in NYC or L.A.).
And because I bought a home in the country, I have to drive 1 to 3 hours each way for music, which I now do almost daily. I'm putting a lot of miles on my car. Fortunately, my Tesla is super cheap to drive, and since I'm driving at least 100 miles a day to rehearsals and gigs I use its self-driving feature so the drives don't become a drag, and I get there fresh and ready to go, and use the drive time to buzz on my mouthpiece. I have lots of musician friends, and I'm getting called for all kinds of gigs. Honestly, when I look back to Snowmageddon and being so unhappy with retirement and my move, I can't even recognize that life or that person anymore.
I thank all the gods that ever were that my spouse bought me that horn when she did, and that she's so incredibly supportive of my music. She even likes to come with me. She went to my Hipnosis rehearsal last night, she's going to a big band rehearsal with me tonight, and she's going to my Slide gig tomorrow. I could not have dreamed up a more wonderful musician's spouse.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Today I got called to play some more gigs with Jacam Manricks, a NYC recording artist, originally from Australia, who moved to my region for his wife's career (and in my book earned the Husband of the Decade Award for that). He's the real deal, man. Amazing jazz mind. On his gigs I get to play with the very best professional musicians in the region and beyond, so it's always fantastic.
And while up until mid-2024 I was always called as a sub for someone else, starting last summer I started getting the calls first. So, progress! Yay!
But that came with a weird phenomenon. As I got better and better, and began to develop a reputation as a good player, I actually started missing out on work. When I'd inquire, they would often tell me, "Well, I didn't think my gig would be good enough for you, so I didn't call." Wait, what??? I play in some really terrible community bands, and you think your paying gig wouldn't be good enough for...me!?!?!?!. Man, that was some weird stuff to deal with.
And that led to another weird phenomenon, or weird for me anyway. Here I am just taking joy in getting to play anywhere, with anyone, good or bad, and having a fantastic time doing it. I'm all about the joy these days, and about the camaraderie, and the relationships with musicians. I just dig it all. I don't have a big ego about it. I never consider myself too good for anything at all, even as I continue to improve. After all, it wasn't long ago I couldn't even play a single note! And I make no distinctions between players, no matter their status. Everyone is a musician, everyone has something to teach me, and everyone is a joy to play with for one reason or another. I'm all about the joy and gratitude now. And because I don't have to earn a living with music, I'm not competitive, I won't take gigs that will displace someone else, and I'm super laid back and looking for the fun in everything I do.
But people are starting to think differently about me. I have worked hard and developed a good reputation. But that comes with consequences in the form of responsibility.
These days, I can't have a bad or lazy day playing. It's not like it was in the early days with community bands where it's low stress and accepting. If someone calls me these days, they expect a really good player. I have to give my best performance every time. In fact, many times I get called specifically because they want that performance. In 2023, it was all about having fun and learning and developing relationships. Nowadays, it's about fulfilling someone else's expectations. It comes with money, but it also comes with pressure. I'll probably never be the player I once was, but I am expected to be that player, now.
And while it comes with the pressure of expectations, it also comes with much more musical satisfaction for me. There is no sex, there is no drug in the world as powerful for me as playing great music with great musicians. Where the pitch is perfect, the music is perfect, where everyone is on top of their game, and there is a quiet intensity to it. Those situations are filled with expectations and pressure, but they're also the easiest playing there is. When everything is in tune, it's easy to play in tune. When the time is perfect, it's easy to play perfectly in time. And when the musicianship is high, it's easy to be my best self. So playing in these situations lets me become more self-actualized in the moment, and be the musician I want to be. And my goodness, that's as much fun as you can have with your clothes on.
In April this year I will have been back playing for two years. I'm going to mark my progress for year 2 with a recital or concert of some kind. I'm looking forward to that. I'm starting to write, to hire others for my own projects, and to become a broader musician than just a trombone player.
I have friends, a social network, plenty to do, and things I can take pride in. I make a fool of myself now and then, but I always go for it. I'm never cautious. And that feels really exciting.\
This has been the most amazing 21 months of my life. During Snowmageddon I never could have imagined the path I have taken since then, the friends I've made along the way, and how far I have come in such a short time. It has been like riding a rocket! And I am literally having the best time of my life right now.
I can't wait to discover what the next 21 months has in store for me.
My point is, the trombone can do amazing and unexpected things in your life if you let it.
That's it. If you've read this far, you need to get off the computer and get a life! LOL!
But thanks for hanging in there with my self-indulgent life story. Ciao!
