When I was 7 years old, I went to a school assembly where the faculty told us that we were old enough to begin playing in the string orchestra if we wished, but that brass, woodwind, and percussion had to wait until 4th grade, for your lungs to develop.

I was a smartass, aspiring class clown, and also very well versed in the visual gags of the vaudeville era. I knew Curly accidentally used his upright bass and bow as a bow and arrow. Ha! Bow! Get it?

“So, starting this year you can choose to play violin, viola, or cello”

I raised my hand. I asked “well…what if I want to play upright bass?”

“See me after class”

…

“So …you really want to play the bass?”

“…yes?”

“Okay! Well here’s a quarter-size loaner from the school, we’ll have to stack up 3 chairs so you can reach it to practice but that’s okay, you’re in the orchestra, rehearsal starts monday!”

The rest just sort of … happened.