When I got home that evening Dad, who was on night duty that week, was up and so I had both parents in the same place at the same time and made my pitch. I’d been rehearsing my arguments all the way home on the school bus, how it was my money and how this was the only thing in the world I wanted and my violin teacher thought I should do it and so on. I didn’t start out being argumentative though I explained about the violin, how much it was going to cost and what needed doing to it. There were only two questions. From Mum “are you sure you want to spend nearly all your savings on this?” and from Dad “does you’re violin teacher think it’s worth it?” Yes to both and no whining or wheedling needed which was just as well, that never worked anyway and always ended up in a big row. I could have kissed them, actually I did which, as Dad hadn’t shaved yet was quite nasty and freaked him out a little bit as well but he let it go.
The next morning as soon as assembly finished I rushed down to the front of the hall and got to my teacher before she could get up from the piano, a Steinway Grand that was in my sights as well but one thing at a time, and gave her the good news which came out somewhat like “PleaseMiss Mumandad say I can buy the violin but I can’t get the money until Saturday because Mum has to come to the Post Office with me because I’m only fourteen so I can’t pay you until Monday please don’t sell the violin to anyone else Miss I really want it and” at which point she put her hand up to stop me, assured me that Monday would be fine and reminded me to breathe.
My hour of practice that night was hard going, I really didn’t want to do it but my violin teacher had a sixth sense about these things and I was sure she’d know if I turned up having not done it. On Saturday we went to the Post Office and took out just the sixty pounds for the violin then Dad drove me to Haslemere so I could buy the new peg, he paid and said I could pay him back from my car washing and lawn mowing money, for a 14 year old I actually had quite a decent income and it had been my idea that Mum and Dad didn’t give me pocket money any more, I liked the feeling that any money I had was really mine.
On Monday Mum gave me an envelope with the money in it and made sure it was safely in the inside pocket of my blazer before I left the house and after assembly once again nabbed ny music teacher, slightly less breathlessly this time and handed over the envelope. She promised to bring the violin in the next day which was also my next violin lesson so getting it earlier wouldn’t have helped.
On Tuesday with a violin case in either hand I reported for my lesson, handed over the slightly battered case and then got out my now disliked school instrument for a really hard practice session. Halfway through the piece she handed me my newly refurbished instrument and told me she wanted to hear it in action. I quickly transferred my chin rest, kept hold of the bow I was using, tuned up and attacked the piece with more enthusiasm and vigour than ever before.
I was allowed to hang on to the bow and chin rest indefinitely as the bow had to go to a shop for re-hairing and repair to the silver work and I’d have to buy a new chinrest for which I needed to save. I left that lesson with only one violin case containing my wonderful new friend, two bows and a borrowed chinrest. there’s more to come of this story for which I make no apologies. Now, more than ever I want to remember some good things for a little while.
Love
Lovely, thanks for sharing this wonderful moment of yours. I was ready for something horrible to happen in the very end of your story, thank God it didn’t
It’s definitely something special and unbeatable about that emotion of an instrument of your own. I still remember the day my sis took my guitar to play it when I was away, and returned it with a string broken. It was only a string, one of many broken strings… but I was ready to kill my sis, just like she had killed my ‘love’.
Love
Daniel
I did kind of leave it hanging which I hadn’t meant to do
I’d have been exactly the same if one of my sisters had taken my violin even if it came back in perfect condidtion, there are certain things that just can’t be shared and your own instrument is just too precious for others to touch
Love
Malcolm
Wonderful, fantastic feelings. Did playing with the new instrument change the way the music sounded to you? Did you keep up the new vigor for music? Some day I would love to know what happened to your violin, did you keep it, or maybe pass it on to someone else in need?
Thank you for finishing the memory with / for us Mac. I could almost hear you play at your lesson.
Warm thoughts and best wishes,
Scottie
Music just sounded better and I felt more confident and my passion for music reached the point where it was really the only thing in my life that mattered. Unfortunately in the late 1970s I was diagnosed witha condition called Cervical Spondylosis which was affecting my neck and arms quite badly making playing difficult so I regretfully decided to sell the intrument, seeing it all the time was quite painful. With medical improvements the condition has eased a lot over the last few years and I’m thinking of buying another violin.
It’s great, as a young person, to set your mind to something and, with a bit of help here or there, to achieve it. It makes you feel ten feet tall because, for once, you’ve actually managed to do what’s closest to your heart.
Of course, given your determination to do all things musical, it was an ‘approved’ item for what they undoubtedly saw as a ‘little boy’ of fourteen.
Very much a ‘little boy’ and I don’t think that really changed until my 21st birthday which was marked with the gift of an electric razor an acknowledgment that I’d finally grown up, even though I still only needed to use it once a week at the most.
Yes it was a tremendous sense of achievement and even though a bit of a financial leg up was needed it was my achievement.