The Clarinet From 1776

     I was really looking forward to playing the clarinet when I got into Junior High. Kay had started playing the saxophone, Keith was learning the trombone and Bart played the trumpet. Father had a beautiful black clarinet he played and I just assumed that I would get to take it to school with me to play in the band.
     "Okay, Jelene," father said,walking into the living room.  "I got you a clarinet to take to school.  Come here and I'll show you how it works. I love these old clarinets. I remember watching Benny Goodman play one just like this in his band."
     "Whose Benny Goodman?" I asked.
     "Whose Benny Goodman?!  He's only the most famous clarinet player in the world."
     He opened the long narrow case that was laying across his lap and pulled out the ugliest clarinet in the world. It was a tarnished silver color, with rust around each of the keys. It didn't come apart like his beautiful black one. It was all in one piece.
      My heart started beating wildly.  "Yes, of course." I said to myself. "Here we go again." My head told me to shut up and not say anything. "This is normal procedure," My head reminded me.. "Remember, life is not meant to be easy... It would be too easy, if you were to be able to take his clarinet to school. Not in the plan...Not in the plan..!!"
     Father gently took a reed out of the side pocket of the case, licked it on both sides and tightened it into the head piece. He took the clarinet into his expert hands and began to trill up an down the scale. He could make anything sound good.  Okay, alright, maybe if Benny Goodman could play a clarinet like this, it wouldn't be that bad. 
     "You take this one to school and when you learn how to play well enough, then you can take mine."
     I knew there was no need to say anything, so I kept my mouth shut and trudged off to school with my clarinet under my arm on Monday.  When I got to band class, I sat down in a chair and pulled out my one piece.  The other kids opened their cases and began putting their beautiful black clarinets together, piece by beautiful piece. One girl looked over at me and screwed up her face in a horrid, painful grimace. "What is that?" she shouted, so loud, even the teacher turned to look at the oldest Clarinet still in existence.
     "It's a clarinet like the one Benny Goodman used to play." I said in my defense.
     "Maybe in 1776!"  Everyone roared laughing.
     I was so humiliated I wanted to crawl under my chair.  But instead, I hauled that ugly, ancient clarinet home every night. I practiced and practiced, until I played better than any of those other stupid kids and got to be first chair clarinet.
That'll show you, SUCKA's!!!'                       Loveuall Jelene