The trumpet story

My son is walking around humming “Dust in the Wind.” I told him I have the sheet music, and that it’s fun to put the synthesizer on the violin setting and play the instrumental solo.

This reminds me of something I tried to get away with when I was 18.

I had gotten that keyboard for my 18th birthday. It’s a Roland HS-80, and has great tone quality and can do many things. I am not tech savvy enough to appreciate most of the features, but I have always had fun playing Jingle Bells in fart sounds.

There was a busboy at work who was calling me. We were getting ready to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and were in that talking-on-the-phone, finding-out-we’re-perfect-for-each-other-because-we-both-know-how-to-get-Oxy-back-in-the-tube stage.

He told me he played the trumpet.

“I can play the trumpet!” I lied. “Wanna hear me?”

I put my keyboard on the trumpet setting and played him a song. After a few measures I said, “Here’s my favorite part.”

“Hey! How can you talk while you’re playing a trumpet?”

Busted.

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2 Responses to “The trumpet story”

  1. Adverb humor « Stories O’ Mine Says:

    […] also my High School Boyfriend’s birthday, the boyfriend from The Trumpet Story’s birthday and the copy editor from The Palm Tree Story’s […]

  2. Adverb humor « Stories O' Mine Says:

    […] also my High School Boyfriend’s birthday, the boyfriend from The Trumpet Story‘s birthday and the copy editor from The Palm Tree Story’s […]

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