New bright shiny thing

So, today I drove down to St. John's Music and forked over the cash for my very own, very shiny, very sweet euphonium.

It wasn't an impulse purchase; I've had in mind to buy one this spring for quite a while, and I seriously started the research process about a month ago. I read every opinion I could find on the internet, whether rational, passionate, prejudiced, professional or amateur; perused a few websites, and went on a couple of excusions with Christy to music stores where we played around with various instruments. Out of the confusion I came to some understanding of what I wanted. I ended up playing it safe; same brand and model that I've been renting (Yamaha YEP 321: 4-valve, non-compensating).

I bought it new, so that there would be no hidden issues, and from a local vendor, so that I have somewhere to take it for repairs if it's necessary. I may have been able to get a better deal money-wise if I went with a used instrument or an internet vendor, but I'm not enough of a risk taker for that. And I don't begrudge the money at all if I'm reasonably sure I'm getting something I'll enjoy for many years.

Most importantly....I have my own instrument, and I never, ever have to give it away again! I can play it for the rest of my life, barring some diasaster or a serious lapse of sanity that prevents me from playing. Both are possible, but rap wood that they don't happen.

And yes...."she" has a name: Laura Cecily. AKA Baby Laura. Her name has an etymology, of course:

Laura was the name of my first best friend as a child; or at least, she was the first best friend that I really needed. She also had a personality very much like that of the euphonium: mellow, gentle, dependable, solid. Quite different from the tempermental nature of something like a flute, which can go to all kinds of extremes. Laura is also a euphonic-sounding name, all soft vowels and consonants. Plus the name Laura has a lot of positive associations, from Little House on the Prairie to Laura Secord chocolates. I haven't yet met a jerk or a brat called Laura.

Cecily is the diminuitive of Cecilia, who is the patron saint of music. (She wasn't a musician, but sang a song before she died, and that did the trick.) The only other Cecilia I know was a professor of mine, who played a fairly important role in my life during a difficult time. Interestingly, she was also a music teacher, though that had no signicance for me then. Cecilia/Cecily are also names I like. I go with the diminutive form because euphoniums are small and cute. (Most people think they are big and heavy, but they don't understand. You have to hold one: they are about the size and weight of a one-year-old.)

So much for name origins. Just in case you think Laura Cecily is just another materialistic purchase, I assure you she is not. This particular purchase is significant for me for many reasons, some of which scare me a little, but all of which I'm willing to embrace.

First of all, Baby Laura the euphonium is a fairly big investment money-wise, which means I'm committed to making music part of my life for many years. No protest there. I've been waiting a long time to have a rich cultural life; I just didn't know how to make it happen. I believed for many years that I could never be truly happy outside of Nova Scotia, where music and dancing permeate the very air you breathe. Learning an instrument, being part of a band, and attached to a community of like-minded people has slowly changed my mind on that accord. It's not, by itself, enough reason to stay here, but it's removed what was a large part of the reason to leave.

Laura Cecily cost about as much as a nice vacation, including plane tickets to some distant locale. That's OK too. I love to travel, and I want to again in a few years, but music can take me to places that even a plane ticket can't. My journeys will happen through imagination and the absorption of culture. I know that when I do travel again, my mind and soul will be more open than before.

Secondly, despite being quite portable (she doesn't require a forklift or anything) Laura Cecily is a pretty heavy, solid instrument. She's not a fiddle or a banjo or a guitar or a whistle or any of the instruments a gypsy would carry from town to town to play on the street corner. Moreover, although I love playing it by myself, the euphonium and me came together in a social setting - a band - and that's where we fit in best. Bands are elaborate social projects that require much time, skill, committment, and community-building. In other words they are part of a settled, civilized life that has always somewhat eluded me. That's probably the scariest part of this: the real milestone. I've just committed myself to that kind of a life, being a part of the community, making sure I have the time, money, and leisure to pursue this endeavour. Again, it's a welcome change. But the lack of this settled life, the longing for it, the vague but irresistable desire to do something, anything that would lead me to it - all this has caused a current of existential anxiety and muffled pain that's run through most of my adult life. Suddenly facing up to these feelings makes me feel a little dizzy. Can I really? Is the time now?

*slams the book shut*

So yes, I have a new bright shiny thing. I already love its voice. Maybe it's because it's clean, maybe it's because it's new, but I'm sure my higher range in particular sounds way better. I can't wait to wander through more soundscapes. I look forward to a future of musical fun, and have no fear, you'll be bored with plenty of news about it on this blog.

(note: the original date of this post was lost when I republished it. If I have a chance I will look up the real date on the bill of sale sometime.)