I think I knew that I wanted to play an instrument since, as my grandpa would say, "you went to the dance with dad and came home with mom." In other words, forever. Anyway, when it was time for me to choose an instrument in 5th grade I had a lot of choices, as dad owned quite a few instruments. Eventually I whittled the choices down to sax and trumpet, with a 4-valve rotary Czech tuba in reserve if I absolutely had to use it. The sax idea was removed from the fray because the only sax we had in the house was grandpa’s Selmer Mark VI tenor, and dad wasn’t going to let a little brat like me lug that fine hunk of metal to school. So the trumpet sort of chose itself. Luckily, when I went to the first day of band, the director thought that the trumpet and me would “work out okay.” There’s been a few days here and there that I would argue his choice of words, but for the most part he turned out to be correct after all these years.