It is well known that I am a nerd. As such, here is a wonderful story:
I love music. I spent my childhood, and misspent, my college years learning and making music when maybe I could have put that energy into finding someone to love. Music is that important to me. At the epoch of interest, I was less than 13 years of age growing up in an undesirable town (I don’t care if that offends, they’re my feelings = TDB. I left town and am SO GLAD I did).
So there I was in middle school band class struggling with everyone else to learn the 1812 Overture. I played the trombone, yes tiny me. There’s long series of repeated notes that never made any sense to me musically. I could never pay attention long enough to figure out how many of them in a row there were… The passage never worked as a phrase. Until today.
You see, I’ve been having a mellow day off and decided to give Mozart in the Jungle a second chance, though it didn’t make much sense to me yesterday. Turns out the error was mine in that I accidentally started with Season 2 instead of the pilot. Oops. Today I started with the pilot and I have been charmed. Finally, a TV show with a sound track I actually want to sit through the credits for. And I do.
This happened: (Spoiler-well kinda, but not really) Rodrigo takes the orchestra on a field trip to a run-down neighborhood and they play the 1812 Overture. They get to the climax of the piece and churchbells go off, loudly. I got honest-to-gods chills, goosebumps as I watched and listened.
The reason for my affectation would be returning to that middle school band of mine. My podunk little town had just made itself a new train station in a scary neighborhood and we, less than 13 year olds, sat in the parking lot on a sunny Saturday afternoon surrounded by the crowd to do our best with the 1812 for the grand opening of said train station. And we were NOT good. As we were about midway through the piece trains started going by and blowing their whistles. They drowned us out, but we kept playing. No one gave up, no one. I still remember the disbelieving grin on our conductors face as we finished the piece to applause.
So, thanks Mozart in the Jungle, for that memory.
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