TrumpetMaster - View Single Post

ozboy · 04-02-2007, 08:36 AM

excalibur.jpg
Task 1
Funny Photo
This is a photo taken when I was in a band called the Little Big Horns. We were touring and it was winter. I call this photo EXCALIBUR. It was freezing. It was a quiet country road and a couple of cars came past and sprung us. The horn was my Calicchio before I bought a second hand leadpipe and imported Red Rot into the horn which totally stuffed it.(For the record, we were standing up at the time)

4. Poem or Limerick
This is written inthe form of an Aussie Bush Poem. It is actually true, believe it or not (right down to Mum's Dentures). Hope you like it.

HOW IT ALL BEGAN
Dad answered an ad in the local paper,
He said it would be good for us,
I think it had more to do with the fact,
That some of the local boys were taking an ‘unhealthy’ interest in my big sister.

“We’ll do it as a family” he said,
We all dreaded the ‘F’ word,
But as usual,
Dad's persistence won out.

Hopped out of the car,
Nervous,
The sign said “Lismore City Band,”
The toupee wearing conductor cast an expert eye over us,
Whilst mentally checking the storeroom for availability,
(It was a little like inmates receiving their regulation greens).

Euphonium for the dad,
Trombone for the big lad,
Tenor horn for the girl and,
Cornet for the little one.
(Mum cunningly avoided participation,)
“Can’t play one of those things with my dentures, Darling.”

Took prized possession home to the farm,
It had seen better days but I persisted.
The echo from the back hill was like a drug,
Found the ‘P’ word provided a plausible excuse,
To avoid mundane farm jobs.

The farm next door sold,
A retired station cook and builder moved in and became instant audience,
He’d seen time on the Kokoda Trail during WWII,
Insisted on being called by his first name,
Stoic father insisted he be called ‘Mr,'
Compromise was struck and he became Mr Doug.

Mr Doug enjoyed reminiscing and Rum,
On days when he was feeling down he’d yell,
“Play me the ‘Last Post’ Timmy”
A glistening tear would follow the furrows of the weathered face.

More than 30 years have passed.
The emotion that this curved piece of metal can evoke still intrigues me.

Moved away from the family farm.
Mum and dad sold up and bought a unit on the Gold Coast,
Mr Doug suffered a stroke,
Tough old bugger didn’t let it slow him down,
Just turned 90 the other day.
Told my parents he expects one last bugle call,
Reckon this time it will be me who sheds a tear.

MANDATORY A
Hi,
As my husband has been virtually self taught, and as his parents are unassuming country people, I have been given the task of pleading my husband's case. I do this with a good deal of pride, as he has been a person who was tirelessly pursued his passion as a musician.

I met my husband about 20 years ago outside a club he was playing at. ( We had a mutual friend). I am sure that everyone who enters this competition will tell you that their person absolutely deserves to win. I am no exception. My husband has a real love of playing, only exceeded by the love he has for his family.

Tim made a conscious decision not to move to the city so that his children could grow up free from the worries that big cities pose. He grew up on a farm and believes it has made him the person he is today.It has not been easy to make a living as a Jazz player in Australia, let alone in the country. Despite setbacks, he has continued to pursue his passion whilst being determined to make sure that his boys don't go without. He often says that he doesn't want his boys to think of him as a dreamer who should have go a 'real' job. Because of this, he has taken on a number of jobs to make ends meet including teaching hundreds of children, many from disadvantaged backgrounds, so that they can share his love of music.

Tim has only had 3 trumpets in his life. He has been playing for about 35 years. He owned his second trumpet when I met him. He had saved up for it as good trumpets are very expensive in Australia. It was always looked after, but last year the trumpet died through no fault of his. As money was tight, he bought a $600 second hand replacement.You know what? He can make it sing.

For 35 years, Tim has been perfecting his art form. Like all of you, he has made a real commitment to his passion. He does a jazz cruise each week. People from all over the world drop in and are amazed that a basically self taught boy from the country can play so well. They tell him he should go to the city and make a name for himself. He says that he wouldn't play the same. I know he is thinking of the kids. He doesn't talk about his playing much but he has some photos of Miles Davis that were given to him by an old French lady that was Miles's personal photographer. They take pride of place in our home. He also got a very good revue in a Sydney Jazz magazine when one of the writers heard him on their holiday which meant a lot to him.
The opportunity has finally arrived for Tim to record a CD of original material. He was heard playing and came home jumping up and down with delight. This recording may open some doors that will allow him to get exposure and hopefully get on the Jazz Festival circuit. It is very hard to get discovered so far from the big city.Tim has done a heap of session work over the years, usually for budding artists, but has never charged more than petrol money. He tells them to send a cheque when they are big, rich and famous as he knows first hand how hard it is to make a reasonable living out of music.This is his chance.I would love to see him walk in to the studio with a horn that would do him justice.

Tim spends hours on the net on sights like yours looking at trumpets.He says to his kids that he will buy a good horn when he wins the lottery which is funny as he doesn't buy a ticket. While he never complains, I know deep down he dreams about having a fine trumpet again.
I am sure that there are many deserving entrants in this competition.I know that there would not be a more appreciative winner than my husband.

MANDATORY B
I have been fortunate enough to have played for everything from the Queen of England to a singing dog, and everything in between. Blood Sweat and Tears came to Australia. They were travelling between capital cities and took a mid week gig in our small country town about half was between Brisbane and Sydney. There was hardly anyone there,(probably 30) as the town is very Country Music orientated. The band absolutely cooked. I walked up after the gig and thanked them as they were terrific. I was apologetic that people of their calibre would play to an empty room.One of the horn players said “It’s like this. You paid the same amount for a ticket as a person in a full house. Why should you get any less value for money?” I learnt a lot from this as it made me evaluate why I love to play.I came to the understanding that everytime I play, I play to make myself happy and to try to play something meaningful. If people dig it, then it is a bonus. Every day that I am above the ground and blowing is a bonus.

If I had to pick one experience it would be when my band went to the Solomon Islands on a cultural mission. The island children had no electricity or real understanding of the world beyond their island. I took a heap of mouthpieces and on the beach one afternoon and let the beautiful uncomplicated kids try to play my horn. Then I played and they laughed and danced. To see the joy on their faces was amazing. I have kids of my own and I realised that my children are the ones that have missed out.

04-02-2007, 08:36 AM	#21 (permalink)
ozboy Piano User Join Date: Jan 2007 Location: Australia Posts: 359	Re: 2007 Eclipse Contest Entries Go Here! excalibur.jpg Task 1 Funny Photo This is a photo taken when I was in a band called the Little Big Horns. We were touring and it was winter. I call this photo EXCALIBUR. It was freezing. It was a quiet country road and a couple of cars came past and sprung us. The horn was my Calicchio before I bought a second hand leadpipe and imported Red Rot into the horn which totally stuffed it.(For the record, we were standing up at the time) 4. Poem or Limerick This is written inthe form of an Aussie Bush Poem. It is actually true, believe it or not (right down to Mum's Dentures). Hope you like it. HOW IT ALL BEGAN Dad answered an ad in the local paper, He said it would be good for us, I think it had more to do with the fact, That some of the local boys were taking an ‘unhealthy’ interest in my big sister. “We’ll do it as a family” he said, We all dreaded the ‘F’ word, But as usual, Dad's persistence won out. Hopped out of the car, Nervous, The sign said “Lismore City Band,” The toupee wearing conductor cast an expert eye over us, Whilst mentally checking the storeroom for availability, (It was a little like inmates receiving their regulation greens). Euphonium for the dad, Trombone for the big lad, Tenor horn for the girl and, Cornet for the little one. (Mum cunningly avoided participation,) “Can’t play one of those things with my dentures, Darling.” Took prized possession home to the farm, It had seen better days but I persisted. The echo from the back hill was like a drug, Found the ‘P’ word provided a plausible excuse, To avoid mundane farm jobs. The farm next door sold, A retired station cook and builder moved in and became instant audience, He’d seen time on the Kokoda Trail during WWII, Insisted on being called by his first name, Stoic father insisted he be called ‘Mr,' Compromise was struck and he became Mr Doug. Mr Doug enjoyed reminiscing and Rum, On days when he was feeling down he’d yell, “Play me the ‘Last Post’ Timmy” A glistening tear would follow the furrows of the weathered face. More than 30 years have passed. The emotion that this curved piece of metal can evoke still intrigues me. Moved away from the family farm. Mum and dad sold up and bought a unit on the Gold Coast, Mr Doug suffered a stroke, Tough old bugger didn’t let it slow him down, Just turned 90 the other day. Told my parents he expects one last bugle call, Reckon this time it will be me who sheds a tear. MANDATORY A Hi, As my husband has been virtually self taught, and as his parents are unassuming country people, I have been given the task of pleading my husband's case. I do this with a good deal of pride, as he has been a person who was tirelessly pursued his passion as a musician. I met my husband about 20 years ago outside a club he was playing at. ( We had a mutual friend). I am sure that everyone who enters this competition will tell you that their person absolutely deserves to win. I am no exception. My husband has a real love of playing, only exceeded by the love he has for his family. Tim made a conscious decision not to move to the city so that his children could grow up free from the worries that big cities pose. He grew up on a farm and believes it has made him the person he is today.It has not been easy to make a living as a Jazz player in Australia, let alone in the country. Despite setbacks, he has continued to pursue his passion whilst being determined to make sure that his boys don't go without. He often says that he doesn't want his boys to think of him as a dreamer who should have go a 'real' job. Because of this, he has taken on a number of jobs to make ends meet including teaching hundreds of children, many from disadvantaged backgrounds, so that they can share his love of music. Tim has only had 3 trumpets in his life. He has been playing for about 35 years. He owned his second trumpet when I met him. He had saved up for it as good trumpets are very expensive in Australia. It was always looked after, but last year the trumpet died through no fault of his. As money was tight, he bought a $600 second hand replacement.You know what? He can make it sing. For 35 years, Tim has been perfecting his art form. Like all of you, he has made a real commitment to his passion. He does a jazz cruise each week. People from all over the world drop in and are amazed that a basically self taught boy from the country can play so well. They tell him he should go to the city and make a name for himself. He says that he wouldn't play the same. I know he is thinking of the kids. He doesn't talk about his playing much but he has some photos of Miles Davis that were given to him by an old French lady that was Miles's personal photographer. They take pride of place in our home. He also got a very good revue in a Sydney Jazz magazine when one of the writers heard him on their holiday which meant a lot to him. The opportunity has finally arrived for Tim to record a CD of original material. He was heard playing and came home jumping up and down with delight. This recording may open some doors that will allow him to get exposure and hopefully get on the Jazz Festival circuit. It is very hard to get discovered so far from the big city.Tim has done a heap of session work over the years, usually for budding artists, but has never charged more than petrol money. He tells them to send a cheque when they are big, rich and famous as he knows first hand how hard it is to make a reasonable living out of music.This is his chance.I would love to see him walk in to the studio with a horn that would do him justice. Tim spends hours on the net on sights like yours looking at trumpets.He says to his kids that he will buy a good horn when he wins the lottery which is funny as he doesn't buy a ticket. While he never complains, I know deep down he dreams about having a fine trumpet again. I am sure that there are many deserving entrants in this competition.I know that there would not be a more appreciative winner than my husband. MANDATORY B I have been fortunate enough to have played for everything from the Queen of England to a singing dog, and everything in between. Blood Sweat and Tears came to Australia. They were travelling between capital cities and took a mid week gig in our small country town about half was between Brisbane and Sydney. There was hardly anyone there,(probably 30) as the town is very Country Music orientated. The band absolutely cooked. I walked up after the gig and thanked them as they were terrific. I was apologetic that people of their calibre would play to an empty room.One of the horn players said “It’s like this. You paid the same amount for a ticket as a person in a full house. Why should you get any less value for money?” I learnt a lot from this as it made me evaluate why I love to play.I came to the understanding that everytime I play, I play to make myself happy and to try to play something meaningful. If people dig it, then it is a bonus. Every day that I am above the ground and blowing is a bonus. If I had to pick one experience it would be when my band went to the Solomon Islands on a cultural mission. The island children had no electricity or real understanding of the world beyond their island. I took a heap of mouthpieces and on the beach one afternoon and let the beautiful uncomplicated kids try to play my horn. Then I played and they laughed and danced. To see the joy on their faces was amazing. I have kids of my own and I realised that my children are the ones that have missed out. Last edited by ozboy; 04-23-2007 at 03:41 AM.