NO UNTRUTH UNTOLD ™

LEAD PLAYERS ONLY

AN apparent pep-talk from an experienced lead trumpet professional guest lecturer at a college turned out to be far different from the expectations of the rookies in the trumpet section.  

Brass Informant has obtained a recording from an anonymous source of what was planned to be a trumpet sectional rehearsal for an upcoming circus gig, held to gain a group of young students some real world playing experience during a monthly master class. The event has been transcribed with help from eye-witness student accounts.  

Adhering to University privacy rules, the students will be referred to as pseudonyms “Shelly Levine” and “Dave Moss.” Professors’ names were changed to protect those up for tenure.  

Shortly before the trumpet sectional begins Shelly Levine, a graduate student, asked his trumpet professor for assistance.  

“I have some problems, personal problems, I …” to which the Professor coldly told Shelly, “Yes, I know, I heard you warming up.”  

Undeterred, Shelly pressed further, “I could really use one of those new mouthpieces to get me through this gig.” The Professor sharply reminded him, “That’s what we are going to talk about tonight. After the sectional, AFTER the sectional,” leaving Shelly to recoil to his seat.  

An unknown man, in his mid-forties, dressed in an extremely expensive suit with slicked-back hair entered the room and put his luxury gig bag on the desk in front of a huge blackboard. No one but the Professor was familiar with this gentleman. His BMW car vanity license plate read, “BLAKE”.  

“Lemme have your attention for a moment,” said Blake in a clear yet demanding tone. “So you’re talking about what? You’re talking about that third valve slide is gummed up. Bitching about some part you don’t want to play, some mouthpiece rim you’re trying to screw? Well, let’s talk about something important!”  

Shelly gave a slight shrug and proceeded to drip valve oil on his removed first valve during Blake’s presentation.  

“Put that valve oil down! Valve oil’s for lead players only,” Blake barked at Shelly. “You think I’m kidding you? I am NOT kidding you. I’m here from the musician’s local. I’m here from the Brass Arrangers Guild and I’m here on a mission of mercy. You, your name’s what? Shelly? You call yourself a trumpeter you son of a cymbal player?”  

Dave Moss, a fifth year senior got up and started for the door muttering, “I don’t gotta listen to this crap.”  

“You certainly don’t, pal.” said Blake in a sarcastic tone. “Because the good news is: you’re fired. The bad news is, you’ve got - all of you got - just one week to regain your chair in the trumpet section. Starting with tonight’s rehearsal.” Blake proceeded coyly, “Oh: have I got your attention now? Good.”  

Blake retrieved a leading trumpet maker’s advertising poster from his gig bag and pinned it up on the bulletin board. “’Cause we’re adding a little incentive for those who play in the trumpet section this month. As you all know, first prize is a custom edition titanium diamond-encrusted trumpet for your endorsement and a two-year performance contract with the circus when you graduate. Anyone want to see second prize? Second prize is a set of wire mouthpiece brushes,” which Blake tossed to the desk as if he was discarding trash. Their bounce on the table had all eyes in the room staring at the cheap product.  

Blake stepped back from the desk with his hands in his suit pockets and announced, “Third prize is you’re fired and I will make it my personal mission to see to it that you never work in this business again. Everybody get the picture? You laughing now?”  

Blake lifted up a stack of sheet music and continued, “You got charts. Management paid good money for those charts. You can’t play the charts you are given? You can’t play garbage, you ARE garbage, hit the bricks, pal and beat it ‘cause you are going out!”  

Shelly, visibly shaken by this unusual trumpet sectional, tried to reason with Blake, “The charts are weak.” Blake, showing no signs of sympathy, said “The charts are weak? The freakin’ charts are weak?!? YOU’RE weak. I’ve been in this business 15 years…” interrupted by Moss mustering to reply in a challenging tone, “What’s your name?”  

“Kiss my brass, that’s my name.” Blake spoke in his most confrontational pose yet towards Moss. “You know why, mister? ‘Cause you carried your horn here tonight in a smelly old case with a broken latch tied with kite string. I carried my horn here in a custom-made leather fur-lined quad case with a built-in iPad holder – that’s my name!” To the young players, it was made crystal clear they didn’t run in the same circles as Blake.  

Blake then turned to a sullen Shelly and continued his attack, “And your name is you’re wanting. You can’t play in a real trumpet section? Can’t play through an entire chart without faking it? Then go to your dorm room and tell your girlfriend your troubles.”  

Blake in an athletic coaches voice added, “Because only one thing counts in this life, get the part played the way it was intended. You hear me you fagotti?”  

Blake motioned to the blackboard and continued his lecture from his chalk writings. “ABC, A - Always, B - Be, C- Closing, Always Be Closing, Always Be Closing your aperture as you ascend into the upper register!”  

Looking disgruntled Moss mumbled, “Incredible.” Without missing a beat Blake addressed the remark, “What’s the problem, pal? You. Moss.”  

In his half-baked attempt to be macho, Moss said, “Well, you’re such a trumpet hero, you’re so successful. Why are you coming down here and wasting your time on a bunch of bums?”  

Blake flashed a small smirk and placed in Moss’ hand a heavy gold ornately engraved trumpet mouthpiece. “You see this mouthpiece? You see this mouthpiece?” Moss said, “yeah” softly.  

Blake in a matter of fact voice said, “This mouthpiece costs more than your car. I made $97,000 last year just doing flugelhorn doubles, how much did you make? You see, that’s who I am and you’re nothing. Nice guy? I could give a dented mute, go work a pre-school. You wanna work here, play! I can, tonight, with the charts you have in front of you play through them without taking the horn off my face, no rests, not miss a note or page turn. Can you? Can you? Get mad, get mad you flute players.”  

From his gig bag, Blake removed a key-chain sporting two shiny dangling objects and held them to his crotch. “You know what it takes to play lead trumpet? It takes brass bells!” tossing them on the desk, causing Shelly to slump in his chair.  

Blake stared down the players and continued, “The charts are in your folders. Work on them, play them as written! You don’t, I got no sympathy for you, and you know what you’ll be saying? A bunch of losers sitting around sniffing rosin, tending counter…some stuffy string shop near campus…oh, yeah, I use to be a lead trumpet player. It’s a tough racket.”  

The Professor then handed Blake a small leather display case. “These are the new mouthpieces. These are the Glengarry mouthpieces and to you they’re not just gold-plated, they are pure gold. And you don’t get them. Why? Because to give them to you is just throwing them away. They’re for lead players. I’d wish you good luck and breath control, but you wouldn’t know what to do with it if you got either.”  

Turning to Moss, “And to answer your question, pal. Why I am here, I came here because the music contractor asked me here to do a favor. I said the real favor, is to fire your sorry brass ‘cause a loser is a loser.”  

Be prepared – to be an original.  

Be prepared – to practice anywhere.  

Be prepared - to go for the gold.  

LIP POLICE

FLYING used to be a simple and often enjoyable experience for passengers, before beefed-up security and advanced passenger-screening methods were put into place.  

A pattern has emerged in which a specific group is being unfairly singled out. Brass players are being detained by airport security based on secret new directives referred to covertly as “brass profiling.” Airport security denies the charge and maintains they are randomly selecting passengers for screening. It further denies that the general public has registered complaints about having to travel with brass players or that there have been incidents where passengers have refused to board the same plane, returning to the terminal and asking to be placed on another flight.  

A musician union representative feels that, “The airlines have never really been brass-player friendly, starting with our protest of how instrument baggage has been handled by the ‘throwers’ (slang for baggage handlers).”  

Brass players as individuals are not a security risk, one confidential source said. Nor are they as a group. “Quite frankly, they tend to annoy the other passengers and the airlines feel it would be best if they could somehow be singled out for group seating when possible. If that doesn’t work, they hope the additional harassment will be sufficient to discourage them from flying,” the source said.  

The fears are that brass musicians will cause problems for the flight crew.  

A stewardess said, “One incident involved a brass player who objected to the in-flight music and kept asking passengers, ‘Hey, what’s on your iPod? Oh, I see … have you ever actually heard a musician play live in your freakin’ life?’”  

Brass Informant has obtained from a highly confidential source the check-list created by the airline industry and supplied to airport security:  

Directive:
Detain these type of passengers for random selection.

1. Instrument cases

Those carrying instrument cases that won’t allow them to be checked as regular baggage.
Those carrying a trumpet case offering to fly the plane.
Those carrying a trombone case asking for more leg room.
Those carrying a French horn case asking to be seated with string passengers.
Those carrying a tuba case asking to be seated at the back of the airplane.

2. Facial lip issues and mannerisms

Those who exhibit stress marks on their lips.
Those who exhibit a constant flapping of the lips, producing a high-toned buzz or who appear to be spitting out an imaginary particle of food while tightening the corners of the mouth.

3. Fellow passenger comfort issues

Those taking a special interest in the lips of fellow passengers, often making inappropriate inquiries to see their teeth to discuss their “placement” or “pivot” or producing several brass player mouthpieces asking them to “buzz” to further discuss and examine their “set-up.”
Those asking fellow passengers if they might be an “up stream” or “down stream.”
Those performing what is commonly referred to as “the pencil exercise” with their lips.
Those who continue to tighten the corners of their lips followed by an abrupt exhale.

4. Electronic devices

Those who have MP3 players which contain only brass soloist recordings.
Those who only have video of live music performances on their cell phones.

5. Use of special covert language

Embouchure, chops, spit-valve, valve oil, mouthpiece and horn freezing.
On jumbo jets those referring to the first and second levels, or first class vs. coach as being “up” or “down an octave.”
Referring to the human heart as a metronome.

6. Unintended use of in-flight equipment and facilities

Using the tray tables as music stands.
Use of in-flight restroom for washing out a mouthpiece, or attempting to soak part of a horn or its slides in the sink.

7. Interference with airline personnel duties

Those who make inquiries to the personnel asking who is performing on in-flight music, then showing a noticeable sign of disgust and frustration when no one else takes an interest in the request.
Those who refer to the pilot as a conductor and the stewardesses as waitresses or showgirls.
Those asking if riser seating is available.
Asking the captain if jet fuel would make a good valve oil.
Asking the air marshal if he or she plays a wind instrument or is the “air” part just an honorary title.

“The practice of being singled out for no other reason than someone’s profession or hobby is another form of discrimination. Our money is just as green as anyone else’s. We are your brothers, your sisters, and to corporate America we are your customers. It has to be stopped,” said the musicians union representative, expressing himself in a loud and clear voice.  

“We just want to be treated like everyone else,” he said, pounding the podium righteously.  

A brass player available was asked to comment. “No, that’s incorrect. I don’t agree with the union on this one. I don’t want to be treated like everyone else. I’m a lead trumpet player. Come on, I expect to be treated better than everyone else.”  

You should continue – to practice your craft.  

You should continue – to write about your instrument accommodation concerns.  

You should continue – to take a stand.  

UNDER THE INFLUENCE

WHILE it is common practice for budding medical students to be told that when they hear hoof steps to think horses rather than zebras as a lesson to practical diagnoses, not so for this upper Midwestern university’s college undergraduate pre-med students who were throughly convinced they had captured a real-life unicorn on their very own college campus.  

The galloping subject was stumbling his way through campus knocking over trash cans, then spotted trying to crawl into a dumpster when he was cornered and captured by a group of pre-med students returning from a late-night party.  

“Look! It’s a freakin’ unicorn! Let’s get ‘em!” cried out one of the students said a witness. They immediately texted and phoned their teaching assistants about this stunning discovery while in pursuit. University full professors weren’t available because they were on sabbaticals, guest lecturing at other colleges and on book tours.  

A series of diagnostic intelligence tests, usually referred to as “Common Horse Sense,” were administered by the students.  

“These tests were designed to determine the intelligence of horses, donkeys, mules and zebras,” said a university graduate assistant. He ponied up additional details: “To our amazement, the unicorn in our custody failed all equine intelligence and coordination tests, scoring shockingly low.”  

The students locked the captured quadruped in the lab. Hours of study under bright lights and webcams revealed that this amazing discovery was nothing more than the marching band’s sousaphone player in a horse costume embellished with a few minor alterations to resemble a unicorn.  

At this point the student-run scientific team was convinced they were no longer dealing with an actual equine’s lost four-legged cousin. The involuntary urine test captured into a faculty member’s empty coffee mug indicated that the unicorn in question had consumed alcohol, likely at an all-night kegger held on the edge of campus. Once out of the restraints of the lab, the sousaphone player was turned over to the police who charged him with being intoxicated on campus, failure to carry student identification and reckless hoofing.  

Seek out – someone who’s always on a steady course.  

Seek out – those often overlooked because they speak so softly.  

Seek out – your own adventure with someone who’s easy to talk to.