Jazz Pride

Jazz Pride

By Bryce hunter Bandish
Dummerston Middle School, Grade 8

[February sixth 2007]

“And now coming to the floor the one and only Vermont Jazz Ensemble!”

As I walk onto the stage, I see a sea of people, and all they want to see is me, Bryce Bandish, first trombone. As I sit down on that brown, worn-down stool, I think of the bloke to my left, second trombone. Oh, how badly he wanted to be me, but all the more incentive to play to my fullest potential on my 1910s silver, dented and bashed Martin trombone.
The conductor walks out. We sit and the and the audience stands. Now it’s time to play.
“1,2,3,4, and....”
We're off on a tantrum for the piece "Just a minor thing." Cue in, cue out, swing it now! Right now it’s all about the band but come measure 57 it will be all about me.
One, two, ready, pickups... GO! The band stops and I stand up, sporting a blazing pink tie on a matte pink shirt, the white buck shoes and the pinstripe pants. Here I go!
I’m playing for me, my school, my parents, and everything else imaginable, so I had to light them up. I go thinking about what an honor it is to play for all of these people on my birthday and solo for all of them. I do this at the best of my ability.
HOLD that high note and then slide down to an end.
And the crowd goes crazy just like when the Red Sox won the world series. And boy, am I pumped.
We finish the piece and we stand up. Then the audience does. They introduce me as the solo artist and it’s all over.

[February sixth 2057]

Even in my old age I still remember the day when I soloed with all the pride in the world, as the boy with the with the Martin trombone (which I still have) at the age of thirteen. I still play frequently with that trombone even though it is so beat up. I even played today on it because I always do on my birthday.
“Here it comes!” The crowd goes silent and.......
My son, sitting on the same brown, worn-down stool, about to solo out to a crowd of hundreds and, what is more important, me. Wearing the same attire I did when I played for the ensemble. The pink shirt, pink tie, pinstripe pants, and white buck shoes, but most importantly the same trombone. Amazingly, he wears the same hair I did too, long wavy brown hair.
Now I know how proud my parents must have been when I played that night many years ago. Because now as he stands up and starts to play my body is flooded with pride..........