Consonance and Dissaonance

I started writing a blog post quite awhile ago to update all y'all about the events of my life, but for some reason, I just never finished it. Re-reading it I feel like it was garbage anyway, so I'm kind of glad that I didn't publish it. Nevertheless, that means that you are left very much in the dark as to what happened to me over the past year and a half. I'll try to give you the synopsis. But first, an interlude. Bear with me here: 

Music, like life, operates in the realm of consonance and dissonance. Consonance is considered the melodious, pleasant sounding part of the music. It's the stuff that sounds overall pleasing to your ear and that you are most used to hearing. Dissonance is a deliberately placed interval in music that sounds clashing. Flats, sharps, grinding, unharmonious chords that make you cringe a little. Generally a dissonant section of music is placed to create tension and to emphasize a consonant section. 

That has been my life. I have had extremes of consonance--extremely pleasant parts of life--and extremes of dissonance--extremely uncomfortable periods--in the past year and a half. The last thing you knew was about my amazing trip to Disneyland. Consonance. A pleasant, melodious, unbearably happy section of my life. Things were fun and amazing and exciting. I was blossoming into a young intellectual in University, dancing with the hep cats and making new friends. Everything seemed like it was fitting in a perfect place in my life. 

I don't know if you could tell from my previous posts (if you read them), but while I was in Bible College I struggled with some identity issues. I wanted to be a part of a certain group of people really badly (Amoroso, B Flat, etc), and I didn't seem to know how to integrate myself with them. I didn't seem to know who I was, and was unbearably unhappy with how "outcast" I felt. During my first year of University I was able to move past this unhealthy obsession with impressing people. I realized that I didn't really want a relationship with these people, I wanted to feeling of belonging it would have brought me. 

In a crazy random turn of events, I started hanging out with some of the young adults that went to the young adults group at my church while I was in Bible College, and one of the people from that group I always had a particular affinity for. She would be a very brassy, very self assured, very deep Baritone Saxophone. She suggested that I hang out with some of the young adults that went to this University, and it was harmonious. It had this consonance; this pleasant feeling to it. It just seemed to fit. I didn't have to fight to fit in here, I didn't have to pine for attention, I didn't have to blast my Trumpet just to be heard. I acted like myself, and I started to make friendships. 

This was a big thing for me, because that was what I wanted in Bible college. To be liked. 

I goofed around with these two guys from young adults, acting like a loser, geeking out about Lord of the Rings, and cramming Subway in my face like the wildly unattractive eater that I am. And it was okay! 

The one guy would be an Accordion or something. Unique, for sure. The other guy is definitely a Trumpet, just like me. He plays First Trumpet, loudly, with a unique flair, and a brassy charm. We clicked right away, and I begged him to help me learn my Chemistry, because I was struggling. 

We began to hang out more at school, because I was desperate to do well in my course. He had already taken it and was more than willing to talk me through the online questions, explaining the manipulation I had to perform on the formula to get the answer that was required. I was more than thankful. 

He is a much more easy-going Trumpet than I am though, and tends to play his song with a carefree, improv-ish, jazzy feel to everything. I am a performance minded Trumpet who always wants to do good, and follow the score to a "t". My unique flair might be in the volume I play the crescendo up to, or how emphatically I hit the sforzando. I don't stray from the music though, I play by all the rules. If there's not a written in improv section, I'm not gonna mess around. 

The Jazz Trumpet, he's different. He's got this confidence that overwhelms even the score, and he can bend the music to work for him. He doesn't deviate from the music so much that you can't tell what he's playing, but he makes it his own. In everything he does, he takes it and makes it unique to who he is. 

Well this became interesting because when midterms came around, our different Trumpeting styles made themselves evident. I was stressing, as per usual, and banking on doing the best I could possibly do (AKA getting my performance in school as close to perfection as possible), and my Jazz friend was totally chill about the whole thing. He told me, in as kind of words as possible, that I needed to relax. I was told to cross off one day during reading week, and devote it to "Fun Times". 

I gave him a "You can't be serious" look, and he smiled. Somehow, his impromptu way of playing music, got through to me. I gave in and found myself watching Sochii Olympic half-pipe at his house during the reading week. 

And it was the embodiment of Consonance. It just seemed like we could be friends, we could play together as first Trumpets, our songs melding together, and sounding freaking awesome. It was fun. I learned some things about improv, and solos and playing my song the way I wanted to play it. I could be a part of a band and still make each thing that I played somehow my own.

So my Jazz friend invited me to this hockey game a couple days after one of my Bible College friends invited me to a hockey game. I went with my Bible college friend and found myself really looking forward to the game with my Jazz friend. 

That second game ended up being a good one for our team, and a big moment in my life too. Mr. smooth Jazz player asked me out after the hockey game, and I found myself shrieking with delight and saying yes. I hadn't even consciously acknowledged to myself that I liked him, but inside I just knew that we sounded so good together and that I never, EVER had a Trumpet in my life--not a first Trumpet player who was so compatible with me. 

Thus started the biggest consonance moment of my life. 

As April approached, we had already officially become "a thing", and were getting to know each other better every day. 

It was four days after my birthday when the dissonance came in. My sister, you remember, the Flute player? She left. There was a whole fiasco that, to be honest, I don't really want to get into. All I can say is that it was a ridiculously hard thing to try and deal with. 

I had lost my best friend, my music buddy, my confidant and sister. We didn't always see eye to eye on everything, and we could be insanely competitive, but that didn't mean that I wasn't crushed when it seemed like she had deserted our family and that things would never be repaired. 

My Jazz player was amazing during this time. Keep in mind that, at this point, we haven't even been dating a month. He came over to my house, and sat with me on the couch, his arm around my shoulder as I buried myself in my school books, trying to focus on finals and struggling, hardcore. I had dragged myself out of bed, thrown on workout clothes, and not bothered to fix my hair or do my make-up.

Note: A girl does not go make-up-less and sit motionless all day on the couch, ignoring her boyfriend, when they haven't even been going out for a month. 

That's exactly what I did though, and I couldn't seem to do anything else. I barely talked, because I didn't know what to say. I didn't have the will to put myself in nice clothes, and make myself presentable. I didn't know what to do. I just sat, staring at my history notes as though looking at them would put them in my head, and if they were in my head I would do well at school, and the Flute would come back. 

It was a weird transition period, getting used to her being gone, getting used to the new family dynamic. My Jazz player brought my so much joy though, so it was weird. It was like being punched in the stomach by one person, only to be hugged by another. 

There were times where I was so mad at the Flute that I never wanted to see her again, and other times when I just sat and cried because I wished we could just hang out like we used to. There were times where I took out my conflicted emotions on my Jazz Player, and other times when being with him made me forget I had conflicted emotions. 

It was a wildly tumultuous experience for my emotions, but you know, it all comes out consonant in the end. What composer makes a dissonant ending to his piece? None. The end of the piece brings resolution; this can only be achieved through consonance. A dissonant part of the music leaves the listener feeling unresolved, that is the point. It is generally the build up to a resolution. It makes the audience uncomfortable so that when things are resolved, they feel so much better. 

Where is this going, you might be asking. Well! The Flute player has returned to us! It hasn't been long that we've been re-establishing communication, and building back a relationship that was thrown into a very confusing pit, but things are going so much better and so much faster than I ever would have though possible! Things aren't perfect, but heck, they are a million times better than they were. I really feel God is working in her life, and working in the lives of my entire family. A work of restoration is being done, and that feels so right. I might still be confused (we all might still be confused) working through emotions or whatever, but we are getting so much closer to consonance. The pitch sounds just about right, the notes are melding just about seamlessly, the contrast of instruments seems to be coming to just the perfect place where it sounds--right. 

As for my Jazz player, we are madly in love, excited and eager to proceed through this score called life, playing in perfect harmony. I am wildly blessed to have him in my life, and so grateful to God that He brought me my counter-part Trumpet player, the one I so badly wanted--the one I didn't realize I needed. 

Here's the thing, God is the master composer, and understands that in the end, consonance is what dominates. He allows dissonance in a piece, because it makes the consonance that much more powerful! It is what makes the score real, the nitty gritty, grinding conglomeration of consonant and dissonant chords is what makes music music. So of course, He composes our lives with a little bit of both, knowing it will make a fuller, more complete, more powerful work of music. But, He is the God of peace, and He restores the peaceful calm of consonance one way, or another; in the way we expect, or not; in this life, or the next. Because He knows what it means to make a beautiful piece of music out of your life. 

So--Bravo! You've made it through the dissonance. And if you haven't yet, you will. Keep on trekking performer! Consonance is coming. 

--Trumpet Player   

    

Affrettando

Hurrying, pressing onwards.

I'm really sorry about the next long delay that I have put you through. Now I am going to hurry, and press onwards, and try to relate the rest of my story for you of the adventures I had in California.

I found myself wishing for the warm weather again as I huddled in the cold by the bus stop this morning. Snow was floating down from the sky, my breath came out in puffs from my mouth, I had my scarf wrapped around my face, and my gloves on my hands. And I recalled a time, not so long ago, when I had a T-shirt on and jeans. There was a place where the sun shone brightly, and the sky was blue! Well, except for one day. I suppose we shall get to that bridge when we cross it, yes?

Day two of our adventures in California*.

*If you are unaware of the events of day one I would have to re-direct you to the blog post titled "G.P" wherein I relate the details of day on for you.

Our plan on day two was to go to Universal Studios and experience the wild world that was movie making! I was quite excited, but plans had quickly changed. My brother wanted to go to California Adventure, and we were more than willing to oblige. We headed on the shuttle to Disneyland, turned left instead of right, and crossed the threshold into California Adventure!

We searched first for the Cars attraction, where everything was built exactly like the town of "Radiator Springs" in the movie!

My brother, he loved the Cars movie. He watched it over and over and over, and I began to dislike the story because I could recite it almost from memory, and that wasn't a voluntary thing on my part. I didn't try to memorize the entire interaction between Mater and Lightning Mcqueen, but oh did I ever!

Going to Radiator Springs though, was one of the coolest things I had ever seen! It looked so real, even the desert behind it looked real, with the plateau jutting up from desert ground. And there was a Cars ride! I'm almost ashamed to admit that it was probably my favourite ride! You get into a car and go moseying along on a nice little stroll. You Tractor Tip with Mater, get your car painted or the tires changed, and then you go racing! The ride speeds around on a track, up and over these crazy bumps, it's turns you onto your side as you zoom along the walls of the desert track! It was so much fun, I enjoyed it so much!

From there we went over to the cozy cone for an ice cream (wait for it) cone! My brother met Lightning Mcqueen, we went into Flo's V8 Cafe, we went on a floating tire ride! It was crazy! In California adventure, we saw the Bugs life portion of the park, the Monsters Inc ride, the Hollywood Tower of Horror! I myself, am not a fan of heights, and refused to go on that ride. My mom kept urging my younger sister, and my 12 year old brother to get on one of the scary rides.*

*This isn't my youngest brother, who got the heart transplant, but the eldest boy of our family. (Here's how our family goes--I'm the oldest, followed by my sister the flute, my 12 year old brother, 10 year old sister, and my hero of a brother, sitting at age 9.) This brother is definitely an E Flat Clarinet. Annoying. I love him, but his song does not bring joy to my ears most of the time. He makes me laugh though, with his random quips, and his "false facts." He brings something to the band, every instrument does. Maybe it doesn't always seem like it, but we need him in our family band. He makes us sound better. Somehow.  
 
I digress! Scary ride! Hollywood Tower of Horror it was.

I was fully expecting my brother to come out crying. He talks smack all the time, and now he was going to pay for it! He unfortunately, really enjoyed the ride. I couldn't believe my brain! He liked it? I would have peed myself and he liked it?!

I had to swallow my pride, and carry on.

And carry on we did! We went on the river raft ride that goes up into the wolf mountain (and that was a blast! I somehow found myself precariously perched under every random stream of water that came my way though, and had to try and protect the bag I had so unwisely carried onto the ride with me. The Flute and I shoved our cameras and electrical things into a plastic baggie inside my bag, but we were not convinced they would survive. Spoiler alert: they did) we went over to the Paradise Pier. I loved that! It was like being at a fair, a real, honest to goodness, carnival! The roller coaster roared on the tracks, people shouted and screamed, the smell of corndogs wafted through the air, games blinked and flashed, and beckoned for your attention. It was magical. And of course--the Ferris Wheel.

My brother really wanted to go on the Ferris wheel, and I will tell you now, I am not a fan of things that turn a hundred feet in the air, and wobble, and squeak, and laugh in derision at the discomfort of those riding on it! (Okay, maybe that's a slight bit dramatic. Regardless.)

I went on for him though, and at first I had to close my eyes and grab the Flute's hand while breathing hard through my mouth. Then I grabbed my brother's hand, and eventually I could open my eyes and look around a little bit. (I couldn't think about it too much though.)

It was kind of neat to look across all of Paradise Pier, and see the water beneath us, and the coaster rolling beside us. I sort of wanted to go on the roller coaster, but I do not regret that I didn't. It would have been fun I'm sure, but everything else was so amazing that I seriously couldn't be upset about anything!

I can't remember at what point we were travelling from one part of the park to the other, but a Churro stand was just sitting there, and I informed my mom that Churros were supposed to be really good. She bought one, tried it, and decided that she wasn't sure how she felt about them. They must have a bit of an addictive quality though, because everyone said the same thing at first, and by the end they were pretty certain they wanted another.

Once we finished our adventures in the California Adventure theme park, we went back to Disneyland to see some more things that we had missed our first go around.

"You can go to that Thor exhibit," Mom told me.

I had a moment where I stopped breathing.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yah," She said, letting me know that she would just give me and my sister, the Flute, a phone and that we could text when we were finished. The E Flat Clarinet wanted to come too, and we let him. Perhaps it was a little begrudging at first, but we had a good time getting each other going as we waited for the exhibit.

But back up.

I was overjoyed. I was about ninety eight percent sure that the Thor meeting was over though, as that had been the day before and during hours that I was pretty sure we would have missed if it was again that day, but still! I had heard it was just like Asgard inside of the Inventorium, and I was so exited to see that!

Except that it wasn't. It was some weird exhibit, and there was a station where you waited to play a game on the "X box one" and there were a few other things that I didn't understand. A glass case housed some of the weapons from The Warriors Three, but it was nothing overly impressive. I mean--what they had was cool, but I had been expecting so much more.

Well, we would check out the Iron man exhibit, I thought, and me and me two younger siblings got in line to see this "Iron Man thing" that would undoubtedly be cool. We didn't even really know what it was, and we joked as we waited about how we "didn't even know what we were waiting in line for, but it had better be awesome."

And it wasn't.

For the E Flat lad, it was cool. A sort of a game, simulation thing where you "Become Iron Man" and they scan you, throw a suit on you, and then you fly around Tony's garage all on a virtual screen. There were some of the Iron Man suits on display, Mach I through V I think. They were neat, and I snapped a quick picture, but it wasn't what I had expected.

There was another line, a longer one, that ended at a blue wall on the other side of the glass cases where the Thor weapons were. I hadn't the slightest idea what they were waiting for, but there had to be a wall, and a further exhibit beyond, so we got in line! And waited for something else that could have promised to be just as much of a bust as the Iron Man thing.

We talked, and waited, and talked, and waited. We thought about "What if" Thor was really in there, but we knew that the chances were very slim, and that likely we would be seeing some more articles from the world of Asgard.

I kept repeating that "it had better be awesome", and my E Flat brother kept asking what I would do if Thor was in there. And Loki! (Loki's just about the coolest character ever in my books, so I kept responding that I would probably faint, and he probably wasn't in there, but if he was that would be awesome!)

We kept speculating, making guesses, the like. We laughed, and my brother as a slip of the tongue, ended up calling Thor "Thoki" and we laughed so hard that I almost started to cry.

I had a tiny ray of hope inside of me though, and I fished out my pen in case we met somebody, and they could sign my autograph book. The day before I had told the Flute that if I met Thor I would say "Mighty Warrior of Asgard, would you sign my mouse shaped tablet?"

We laughed about that and as we waited and speculated, and my sister asked me "do you even remember what you said you would say?"

"Of course," I said, offended. Then, taking a cue from my brother's book, I told her that I would say, "Uhm--Thoki?"

We laughed some more, and finally reached the front of the line. The doors slid open and revealed--

A small room. It was neat inside, don't get me wrong! There were glass cases with Loki's helmet, and shackles, there were dark elf masks, and little descriptions over everything. And there was a door labelled "Exit" and that was all.

I wasn't disappointed. Not really. You can't be too disappointed in Disneyland.

Then, the voice of Loki came on over the speakers, and a woman dressed in Disneyland uniform started talking over him.

"Oh Loki's talking now," She said, "We're not scared of you."

I wanted to shush her to hear what he was saying, but I couldn't. She kept talking, spinning a tale about how she was our stewardess to Asgard. She said that a deal had been struck between mortals and Odin, and that for each of us to mutually understand our worlds better, he was allowing us to enter Asgard. She huddled us into the middle of the room and said that the Bifrost was going to be opened.

I started getting excited, and I stood in the middle of the room, whispering to my sister about what was going to happen. Was the floor going to rise up? We had no idea, but we pulled the E Flat Clarinet into the circle we had been ushered, just in case.

Fog started to fill to room, and lights flashed across it, all around our circle.

I remember thinking that it was cool, but that if that was all that happened it would actually be a little lame.

Lightning sounded, the fog got thicker, I literally couldn't see anything and then--

The fog started to clear and there was a door where there had not been a door before, and a figure stood on a throne, covered in darkness.

Loki, Heimdall, Odin?

THOR!

I think I stopped breathing for a moment. I still don't remember walking into the room, or the doors closing behind us. I just remember that it was suddenly light, and we were surrounded by golden pillars, and the giant throne of Odin, and Thor was standing before us.

He started talking and I just kept freaking out on the inside. I was taking pictures, just awed, amazed, and star struck. Thor instantly became my favourite superhero of all time, and I couldn't figure out what to do to make my lungs work.

He allowed someone to try and pick up Mjolnir, and they couldn't, and he helped them, and it was so cool!

Each person got to go up and take a picture with him, and our little clan was absolutely last. I was about to stand on one side of him, but the E Flat Clari was in the way, and I went to the other side so that he would have to have his arm around my shoulder, and he did and I almost died!

I then asked him--"Mighty Warrior of Asgard."

He responded with a "Yes" and all now I can't help but shriek when I think about it. He WAS THOR! The REAL THOR! (Not Chris Hemsworth, that would have made me freak out even more probably, if that's possible.)

I then asked if he would inscribe my mouse shaped tablet, and he said "of course!" and took my "parchment."

I handed him my pen, which I had slipped into my sleeve, and he tried to use it to sign my book but it died! And the guys who were there with Disneyland said something like "why is it that everything you touch, dies?" And he chuckled.

I was so flustered that when I went to pull out another pen, anything that he could sign the book with, I whipped out a sharpie and another pen and I almost gave him the pen. And then I realized, and sputtered something about how the Sharpie would probably work better.

He laughed, and grabbed the pen in one hand while holding my "mouse shaped tablet" in the other, and he got me to pull the pen from the cap. I almost couldn't though and was going to say something about how I was supposed to be able to pick up Mjolnir if I couldn't even open a marker, but I thought better of it.

He took the pen to the page and then said "oh, died!"

And I almost did just that!

But he was joking, and we all had a good laugh about it, and I expressed how that would have been terrible, and then everyone else got their books signed, and my brother got to try and pick up Mjolnir, and Thor helped him, and we left, and I almost couldn't breathe.

It was amazing! Magical! A dream come true! I love Disneyland!

The whole trip was so Affrettando, so hurried along, so fast, so furious! But it was amazing! Everything about it, I just somehow wish that we were still there, walking around the theme park, eating a late night meal at a restaurant just before it closes, watching the amazing fireworks explode in the sky, turning my head on a swivel in the "Small World" ride. And that was all just on day number two!

Day number three will have to wait for another time though, and so much more awaits! We were there for a whole week and the whole things was this crazy wild ride!

Another story for another time. I know that it's Affrettando. It's hurried along, I'm pushing through, I'm pushing onwards. It's a task, for sure. But I want to share it regardless. Perhaps that's how composers feel as they write an Affrettando into their music. There is so much to do, such an immense amount of emotion that they want to convey, a story they want to tell, and they only have one section to do it in so they write Affrettando. They hurry it along, they push onwards, because they have to share it. They can't stop themselves, even if they wanted to. It's better to share a piece that is Affrettando than it is to try to keep all that information in.

That's how I feel. So I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to share more with you soon.

--Trumpet Player

Jubilate

I am going to take a moment to diverge from the exciting California adventures to go into something a little more pertinent. For that, I'm going to have to explain what a Jubilate is. It's a song that is sometimes based upon Psalm 100. It refers to a "song of praise." I find that exceptionally fitting for today.

Psalm 100 is called a psalm "for giving grateful praise," and it reads as follows:

Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth. 
Worship the LORD with gladness;
come before him with jorful songs. 
Know that the LORD is God. 
It is he who made us, and we are his;
we are his people, the sheep of his pasture. 

Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise,
give thanks to him and praise his name.
For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;
his faithfulness continues through all generations. 

Today is my brother's one year "heart anniversary." Exactly one year ago today he had his heart transplant. If that isn't a reason to give praise, than I'm really not sure what is. Today is a day for Jubilate. For giving thanks to God for the gift of my brother, for the gift that we have been given on his life.

Of course, there is another side to the story, one that brings much grief, and mourning. That is the story of the donor family, to whom we are forever indebted. I don't know them, nor are we even allowed to know whether their child was a boy or a girl at this point and time. But their child saved the life of my brother.

I don't know how to go about praising God with my Jubilate, and knowing by the same token that more of a dirge is being sung by them. I just pray that they know the goodness of God, and the appreciation that we have for them. My Mom constantly says that in the midst of their pain they gave a beautiful gift, and I just pray that they are blessed beyond measure for that.

I feel weird trying to continue on with my story from California, though I suppose it is not just my story, but my brother's as well. And my family's. It's a story of what he was able to experience because of what the family was able to do. But I can't bring myself. I am just thankful today. Just playing a Jubilate and a Dirge. Mourning and Praising.

That's all for today. Please remember the donor family with me in prayer, and please known the depth of my thankfulness. God is so good.

--Trumpet Player

    

G.P

The G.P is the Grand Pause. This indication serves the same function as a rest, or fermata--sort of. When written the G.P indicates that there is to be a Grand, General, or Grosse Pause, wherein the instruments fall silent for a period of time that is to the Conductors discretion. A Grand Pause generally is a direction for the entire band, and creates a very dramatic effect where all music suddenly stops...and then proceeds once again.

I am going to take a moment here to diverge from my "typical form", where I would proceed to explain the details of my life and how they pertain to the G.P, and I am going to tell you a story that my Conductor once told me.

Once upon a time, within the bass section of the concert band where my Conductor plays, there was a man who played (I believe it was) a Euphonium. Written onto his score was the dramatic, G.P, and he found himself asking the person beside him what the G.P meant. Of course, he had not seen it written in his score before, and why should he? A Grand Pause is not to be used on a whim, it is to be used sparingly so that the jarring, shock value of it, should not be attributed to routine.

This Euphonium's partner was all to quick to inform him that the G.P stood for "Guns and Pistols" and was a direction to play as loud as humanly possible, with no particular pattern or order.

Shall I say that when the Euphonium reached this G.P he was surprised to find that he was the only one who blasted out his notes, at the top of his "Euphonium lungs." It was a humorous moment for the rest of the band, indeed, but one that likely marked that Euphonium with embarrassment for the rest of his career!

Okay, so maybe that's taking it a little to far. It was a good natured prank, and it serves as a story they my Conductor will no doubt tell for years to come.

Perhaps you believe that this is some sort of lead in to my life story, and the reason why I have attributed the title of G.P to today's post.

You would be mistaken.

The reason I chose the G.P as the musical term for today is because of the long, Conductor imposed G.P, that has dominated my blogging experience for the past week and a half.

Of course, exciting this have happened, planes, and dragons, people with the ability to manifest Starbucks at will; dramatic encounters with warriors from mythical lands, and artists with the flair for the socially awkward and adorable.

That will have to wait though.

The G.P. Oh yes, the reason why I have been unable to share with you these experiences! It seems rather mundane in the scheme of things, but still, I have decided to give it the title of my blog post because it has been so darn frustrating that I am unable to overlook it until I have told you about it!

I left on a plane on December fifteenth for California. This, in and of itself, became a reason that accessing the internet was difficult. That, followed by a week long stay in the sunny state, caused a Grand Pause in my blogging endeavour. Now, I know what you're thinking. "You have left much longer lapses in time between posts, and you're expecting me to believe that you would have been blogging on a vacation to California?" Well no, I was not anticipating to blog while on my trip, but I had every intention of writing down every exciting adventure all but the second we touched down back in the blustery neighbourhood of mine. And what did I find, the day I turned on my wonderful Chromebook, and prepared to detail my account?

A Grand Pause, imposed by the great Conductor of our internet provider. Our internet has been down for the past few days, and to my great frustration! I checked, again and again, if I could blog. All of the excitement, welling up inside of me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Dramatic. I know.

But today I checked, and lo and behold! Internet! I don't know what happened that I can now use it, but I have been checking my school website for updates and marks, checking my Facebook account for messages and important notifications (if there are such things), and then, BLOG! I am frantically typing to try and get it done before the internet decides that it does not want to work any more, and I am left with a half finished blog post, and an immense amount of aggravation.

So okay, here we go. The Grand Pause is finished, the silence is broken! No I can share with you the exciting adventure that has been the International Trumpet Player's Family Vacation! (Anyone. Anyone?)

As I told you before, my little brother, roughly a year ago, had a heart transplant. While he was in critical condition with the Left Ventricle Assist Device, and shortly after his stroke I believe, he was given a "wish." There is a foundation that offers children who are sick, and in need, a "wish." Want to meet your favourite hockey player, or travel across the world? Want to own the newest video game system and all of it's games? This foundation will get it done, and make sure they go above and beyond to make the wish come true. It's really an amazing thing, and I am in awe of what they do.

Well my brother's wish was to go to Disneyland (which partnered with the Children's Wish Foundation more than two decades ago, because so many children's wishes were to go to Disneyland). Not only did the foundation send him, but the entire family as well, even the adult child who still lives inside the house. Me!

I'm going to level with you for a second. I had never been to Disneyland before, and I was of the mind that it was for little kids, and I had missed my chance. I did not understand! I did not know! It's so amazing, so magical, it made me feel like a kid! I will promptly eat my hat, because it was one of the most incredible experiences I have possibly ever had. And the thing was, it wasn't even my trip! It was my brother's, and still I am blown away, awed, and amazed!

Okay okay, let's just start at the beginning and let the story happen in a chronological order so that perhaps it will be somewhat coherent for you.

December fifteenth, two am. The alarm clock goes off, and me and my sister spring (or perhaps more accurately, roll) out of bed after an early night the day before. We were already dressed in the clothes that we needed to be in, hair already (sort of) done, and make-up already smudged from the night before. We grabbed our carry on luggage, and found our way upstairs.

Freezing rain covered the roads, and we very slowly made our way towards the airport so that we could get ready for our flight.

A lot of waiting, security, and a Starbucks Chai Latte later, we were on the plane! We left freezing rain, and arrived in beautiful weather, with palm trees swaying in the wind. It was a drastic contrast, but one that none of us were complaining about in the slightest!

We grabbed a rental car, with a bit of confusion, and me and my sister sang the opening theme to "The OC" and squealed with delight at every street sign, or billboard that mentioned "Newport."

We went looking for Newport beach at first, because we didn't have any plans set up for the first day in California, but that turned out to be a bit of a bust. We got lost, confused, and found ourselves staring at a port full of yachts and not any kind of large body of water, or beach like area. That didn't dampen our spirits though! We got on the Interstate and headed to our hotel! Our rooms weren't ready when we got there, so we milled about, the kids watched TV, me and my sister got a tea. When we got out room, we hit the bed, and lazed around, and didn't do a whole lot of anything. We had pizza for supper, and then showered, and got ready to say "Hello Disneyland" the next day!

I have to say, the first day at Disneyland was overwhelming. That made it no less amazing, it was just a lot to take in. There were so many people, and so many things to do. We rode the train probably twenty times (because my brother loves trains, and that was basically what he wanted to do.) We checked out some stores, I bought some buttons because I love buttons (like pin on buttons, not the kind you find on your shirt) and we went on the Finding Nemo ride. It was pretty darn cool!

We found TomorrowLand, and my brother did the "Jedi Training Academy" attraction that they had there. It was so cool! I mean, at first, it seemed alright. The kids get to swing around a toy lightsaber, directed by some people who were dressed up pretty fantastically as Jedi masters. But then, I couldn't believe my eyes, but Storm Troopers came blazing out of the crowd, waving their guns as the stage in the middle of the Jedi arena began to rise out of the ground! It was Darth Vader! Then, Darth Mal jumps out of nowhere and the kids have to use the skills they learned to battle them!

Darth Mal was so scary! Me and my sister (being nineteen and seventeen) were too scared to even take pictures of him because he kept looking at us when he walked by and it was terrifying! Honestly, they did the make-up so good that I am utterly convinced that Darth Mal must actually be real. Except not. But you know what I'm trying to get at.

I must take a moment and apologize for my poor story telling capability today. I am overwhelmed with the amount of information that there is to relay to you and I am trying to breeze through it as fast as humanely possible, and it's hard to accurately describe detail to you while I'm blazing through my story. I fear that if I slow down though, one of two things will happen. I will have a thirty seven page blog post that no one ever will be willing to read, or the internet will quit working and I'll be left sputtering in front of my laptop with another unwanted Grand Pause on my hands.

But alas, on I must trudge. This is a harder task than I had imagined it would be, and while it is still fun and exciting to relay to you, it also is beginning to feel a bit like a daunting chore. I was gone for a week and I haven't even relayed the whole first day to you! Perhaps I will have to divide an conquer, telling you as much as I can now, and cross my fingers and hope that the internet will work tomorrow for me to finish my tale off. We shall have to see what happens I suppose.

Alright. Onwards!

My brother then got to meet Darth Mal, Darth Vader, and the Jedi Masters because of the amazing work of the Children's Wish foundation! And we all got to go with him.

He got amazing pictures taken, and a signature in each of our homemade Mickey Mouse shaped autograph books. (My mom is a creative person and made each of us one in our favourite colour before we left for our trip.)

While in TomorrowLand I saw a banner with "meet Thor" hanging from a large dome shaped building called the Inventorium or something like that. I wished beyond wishing that I would be able to meet Thor, but alas. My brother would not be convinced that going into the Inventorium was something that he really really wanted to do. I was a little bit sad, but who can complain while at Disneyland, right?

From there, a private meeting was set up for our whole family, and Mickey and Minnie Mouse. At first, I think my brother was a little bit scared, but he soon warmed up to them and kept looking over at them as if he was thinking "is this for real?" I think we all developed a new love of Mickey and Minnie.

I know I sound like a child, gawking at the bright attractions, and the people in costume, but it's so magical in Disneyland I felt like a child again! It seems so real, like anything is possible there! It's a place where dreams come true. At least, with our wish pass, it certainly was a place where a couple of kids at heart, and a whole slew of siblings, got to have their dreams come true.

More on that later.

In fact, perhaps I may have to take another Grand Pause (hopefully not one as long of one) and blog the rest of the amazing trip later. I am finding that I just cannot describe it properly, and things are coming out sounding kind of--funny. Not eloquent, or exciting, or entertaining as I would like it to be. Perhaps I am just off my "A game" right now. I would rather wait another week and a half and have an exciting tale to tell, than continue describing this to you in a rushed a hurried fashion where you are lost and left behind, confused, or worse, bored.

I bid you farewell for now, and hope that my adventures can be more accurately, and more excitingly recounted later.

--Trumpet Player

Allegro

I wasn't sure which musical term to put today. I really wanted to put something pertaining to Swing music, but to be honest, I'm not entirely sure that Swing music has a whole lot of "classical" Italian music terms that I could use. I thought about using "Swing Timing", which is a way to note a certain rhythm that the music should be given. I read it somewhere that Swing timing has a ratio of 2:1 whereas a "Straight Timed" song would have a ratio of 1:1 (that pertains to the notes that are being played). This "Swing timing" is what can give any melody it's "Swingy" feel.

But it's not necessarily that the normal "Straight rhythm" of my life has been somehow invaded by "Swing Timing." In fact, I'd almost say that I've been playing the part of my life that's supposed to be in "Swing timing" in "Straight Timing" instead. Trust me, it makes a difference. The same score can sound entirely different if only you've changed the "timing." 

Okay okay, things are getting a little bit lost and confused, aren't they? You're left behind, and I keep chugging ahead like you know exactly what I'm talking about.  

Shall I start from the beginning? 

It all started yesterday--except--not really.

Scratch that. 

It all started in September 2013...

I had just began my schooling, and I didn't know a whole lot of anybody. I had this friend--let's call her the Soprano Saxophone.* We got a long pretty well, and she was about the only person that I really talked to. 

*A Soprano Saxophone looks kind of like a Clarinet, except it's gold and more Saxophone like. My friend sort of seems like she would be a Clarinet, and then you really get to talking to her and she's very social and actually kind of--saxophone like. 

Anyways! My and The Soprano Sax were walking around after our eight am lab class once we had finished our project early. There were all these boards and tables set up everywhere around the school, with people pushing their clubs like they were the coolest things since sliced bread. I didn't know much about "Club Days"--which is when everyone who runs a club in the University sets up their table and pushes their clubs on you like they are the coolest thing since sliced bread--but I had nothing better to do so I glanced into the faces of all the club pushers and examined their boards. 

Christian Clubs, Humanitarian Clubs, Movie Clubs, Anime Clubs, Book Clubs, there was everything for every kind of person! 

I felt like maybe I, like all those ambitious people out there before me, should perhaps join a club. Some noteworthy advice had been given me earlier, at my student orientation, and that was "get involved." AKA, join a club. 

There were a few that caught my eye. A "hey maybe" sort of thing occurred. But nothing really reached out and grabbed my by the soul, beckoning me to be a part of the amazingness that would no doubt ensue if I joined. 

And then--something weird happened. 

I was just about ready to give up, to head on over to my Education Class and forget the whole thing. At least, forget the whole thing for a little while. If I didn't join a club, it wouldn't be the end of the world. I would just focus on my studies and I would make friends somehow. Perhaps it wouldn't be easy (most people in class are pretty focused on being "in class", myself included) but it would happen. It had with the Soprano Sax hadn't it? 

But wait! Something caught my eye. A video playing on a table of some really neat people Swing Dancing. 

Well hey, whoa, what was that? I stopped, I looked, I exclaimed that it actually looked pretty cool, and the Club Pusher must've urged me to sign up my email on their list, because that's what I found myself doing.

It wasn't a commitment yet, it was just something to think about. I was on a email list--that was all. 

The Club Pusher informed me that they were having a kick-off dance and that I should really come. It was going to be great, there would be a lesson and then some social dancing afterwards. I didn't like the idea of "social dancing", it sounded kind of strange to me. What I imagined was that I would be standing on the side of some room while other people danced with each other. Perhaps I would be talking to some other awkward "non-participant" or perhaps I would be a solo. Standing in the corner bouncing on my toes. 

A little while later, after all but forgetting about the club that I had signed up to hear about, I received an email. The kick-off was happening at the end of the month! I was pretty excited to see what this whole thing was about, even though I had some inhibitions about it.

Oh but wait--we were going to Transplant Camp that weekend. There was no way that I was going to be able to make it to the Swing Dance Club kick-off. I emailed the Club Pusher asking if this was an integral lesson, and if I didn't make it if I could still join the club.

By this point I had decided that Swing Dance was something that I wanted to figure out how to do. It seemed like it would be quite a bit of fun.

The Club Pusher never did answer my question, so I figured I would just show up the next week, on Friday at 4:00, when the lessons started.

I would be lying to you if I said that I wasn't kind of hesitant at first. I had a class that ended at noon and I had to wait around the school until four before I could actually go to the lesson. I contemplated just going home.

But I stuck around, and though time dragged on for those four hours, I found myself standing in the fitness room over the gym, with a group of other random people that were milling about. I knew a girl from one of my Ed classes, and I had managed to convince one of my friends to join the club too. But for the most part, I had struck out to do this thing on my own. I wasn't sure if I would know anybody when I started, and I didn't know very many people when I actually stepped out to do it.

But you know what? It was amazing! We started by learning how to triple step, and get into "closed position" with your lead. That was weird at first. I mean, I knew you had a partner when you Swing Dance but I wasn't--you know--too keen on dancing with some strange guy I had just met.

It seems silly that it mattered now.

But anyways, week after week I kept going back. The Instructor (who also happened to be the Club Pusher) was great at teaching and his Follow had amazing technique! She had a good way of explaining to the rest of us Follows as well, how to properly listen to what you're Lead tells you to do. Because, of course, the Lead doesn't normally say "hey, we're going to do this now." Oh no! Through subtle gestures and the position of his hand, or the amount of pressure he give you, you have to interpret what he's about to do next.

It's not only a good workout, but it's intellectually stimulating too! You're always on your brain's toes (okay, that was stupid, I apologize).

But where does that bring us? That brings us to yesterday, the Swing Dance Club Winter Party!

I can't tell you how amazing it was! We had a larger turnout than we expected, because the party was open to all members of the University, and we actually needed to break up the beginner lesson into two groups because they wouldn't all fit in the same room.

There was good food, good company, a lot of people were dressed up in vintage wear (myself included). Honestly, it was fantastic, amazing, fabulous, stupendous, Allegro!

Okay, Allegro. What does that mean? Well cheerful or brisk is what it actually means, but generally it is read as being a lively/fast tempo. My night last night, was both. It was lively and brisk for sure! I Charleston-ed all night long! I got told by one of the guys in my club that I am the Charleston Master, and that definitely inflated my ego.

It was also super joyful though! I feel like Swing is my niche. It's where I'm supposed to be, because I feel so confident now. Even though I'm not as good as some people I know it doesn't matter! Everyone will dance with anybody, and they'll be nice about it. Though you may suck, they won't tell you that you suck, they'll just smile, laugh, and keep dancing with you until the song is over.

The "Social Dance" I was so scared about, became the coolest thing I've ever experienced. There is a place here in the city where people go to Swing on the weekend, and I'm dying to go. Only problem--dancing is from nine to midnight and while I know that I would be there until midnight, I also know that I don't drive and couldn't find my way home on the not running bus at midnight.

Nevertheless! Where there is a will, there is a way, and one time before the new semester starts up I will be dancing until midnight!

I've always loved Big Band Music (yah yah, I know what you're thinking but it's not just because I'm a Trumpet), but now I have an even deeper appreciation for it. It's just--there's something about it that gets into you. I can't stop thinking about what an amazing time I had!

I also had a chance to dance with my Instructor, and he's just about the coolest person I've ever met, so even though I butchered the dance I had so much fun that it doesn't even matter! Seriously! My Lacrimoso was turned into an Allegro so fast that I think my head is spinning just a little bit! Swing Dance does that to a person I suppose.

Alright folks! That's all I can say for now! I have a trip to pack for, a fantastic night to dwell on, and a dream to nurse! I hope that, if anything, my story is proof that a sad song doesn't have to stay that way for long. Our amazing God can find a way to flip the page of your score, and change your sad soulful wail, into a brisk, effervescent Allegro. It just--it comes with knowing that the movement behind the Lacrimoso is in God's hands, and He's going to take care of it all. Somehow, someway, He'll direct you to Allegro. You just have to wait for it. Maybe it'll be within days (like mine) and maybe it wont. Maybe it'll be a temporary thing, something that exists outside the realm of your issues (like mine) and it wont resolve the thing that was causing Lacrimoso in the first place. But maybe it wont be like that! Maybe it'll be the answer to the question that has been causing you so much sorrow, and you're Allegro can be a lasting way of life.

I'm just babbling here now. Basically, don't let that sad song last long! There is so much more in life for you, there's so much better than living Lacrimoso!

Live life Allegro!

--Trumpet Player  

Lacrimoso

Okay, so Lacrimoso. That means sad. And that's really how I'm feeling today, which is such a shame because today was supposed to be a really super duper awesome day.

Alright. Here we go.

It started off really good. I got up at five, ate some oatmeal, did my devotions, and hopped on the bus to get me to school to write my FINAL final exam.

(Remember how scrammed in, crammed in, crushed, and rushed everything seemed? Yah, well, it doesn't feel like that anymore. And I really love it! I mean, LOVE University. It's something that I feel like I WOULD let characterize the rest of my life if I could. Anyway! That's totally besides the point.)

I got to my school, sat down, ate some veggies, and threw in some last minute studying. I was READY for this exam, ready to totally destroy it! And here's the part where you're expecting me to say that I walked into that test and it was terrible, end of sorry, Lacrimoso.

Not quite.

I got into the exam and was BUZZING because I was totally ready to take that thing by the horns, and get it over with! My FINAL final. I was so ready for it! And it was set down in front of me, and the first question was kind of weird. But half an hour later I was finished my two hour test, and I wasn't sure what to do. So I read it over, and then handed it in. I feel pretty good about it.

I then meandered over to the bookstore, and searched through the textbooks to find a couple of the ones that I need for my courses next semester. Lo and behold I managed to get one USED which means that it's cheaper! I was thrilled. I only spent a hundred and seventeen dollars for four textbooks! I couldn't have been much happier, except maybe if I had gotten them for free.

From there, I hopped on the bus to the mall that my friend works at, and I bought her Christmas present without her even knowing! Then I found myself in the drugstore where I got a steal of a deal for some bright red lipstick!

Whoa wait, bright red lipstick? That doesn't sound very flattering, nor very Trumpet like, you must be thinking to yourself. It's not, I agree, but that's not why I bought it. Different story for a different time.

I went over to the coffee place where my friend works and she gave me a FREE Chai Tea Latte. Over the moon excited was I! I hung around until her lunch break, and we checked out a couple stores in the mall before deciding that we were going to get together for a pre-Christmas "Christmas dinner" after she was done her shift.

So--where's Lacrimoso coming from then? It sounds like a fabulous day!

Yes, well it was pretty fabulous for the first little portion. Like I said. But then, things started to happen. And they weren't terrible things. Not the direction to play Lacrimoso for sure, not unless I'm a baby who can't handle the heat. Erm--well--snow.

See, I got stuck waiting outside for like twenty minutes in the snow! And it was cold, but I was fine. Then I missed my other bus and had to walk home for twenty minutes in the snow. And that was cold too. But again, besides my nose dripping like a faucet, I was fine.

I even bought my sister a purple headband while I was out, and I got to give it to her, and that was nice! She was happy, and I was happy. Then I set up my workout, and worked out pretty hard! And then I got ready to go visit my friend.

Except wait, she says, she had to babysit. And we couldn't get together unless I went over to her house while she babysat, and that always seems kind of not cool to me. I shouldn't be distracting the babysitter. I feel like I'm making an irresponsible decision if I do that.

But not a HUGE deal. Sort of sad. Slightly Lacrimoso. But whatever. I just used it as my resolve to have an even bigger, even better get together with my friend after Christmas. (You see, I'm leaving for the Christmas holidays, which is pretty exciting in and of itself.)

Alright Trumpet Player. You're beating around the bush here. You're telling me that you're playing your poor me, pity party, Lacrimoso song, and everything is "no big deal"? What is making you Lacrimoso.

Alright, you twisted my arm. I'll tell you.

My parents have been fighting, a lot, lately. And when I say fight I don't mean that they're playfully bantering about leaving the toilet seat up, or legitimately getting mad about the dishes not being put away. I'm talking about anger, through and through. The words "divorce" get thrown around, or at least, implied. Last night at the supper table was miserable, and today, round two.

The thing is, they're not angry people, nor are they abusive. They aren't the kind of people who like to yell, or fight, or swear, or any of those kinds of things. You wouldn't find them in a bar fight is what I'm saying. But I haven't been able to tell who they are lately. It's really scary. And there's this issue, one I don't really feel like coming out loud any telling you straight up (because when do I ever really tell you anything straight up anyway?). I'm just going to call it the issue of faulty instruments.

So there are these faulty instruments, okay? And the people that play them aren't so bad, they just have these instruments that don't seem to want to play properly. And if my parents are the conductors, then the conductors have been trying to make these instruments work. But these conductors, they're not necessarily instrument repair people okay? Not bad people, but not made to deal with the problems that these instruments pose. It's not just that the Trumpet Valves are sticking, or that the Reeds are cracked. No, there's issues with the mechanics of the thing. Things are bent, holes aren't being covered properly. It makes it really hard for us family band to play properly. And lately everything has just been coming out angry, or in my case, Lacrimoso.

My Dad, he's a good conductor, but he's not the one who likes to try and fix instruments. That's my Mom. And so she does her best to fix these instruments, and when she can't, she gets frustrated. And then she gets mad at her co-conductor for not helping her fix the instruments that these other band members are playing. And everything just sounds bad. The conductors are too busy trying to fix the instruments that they aren't conducting in a manner that would be conducive for the rest of us band members to play.

And this isn't the cosmic band of life, where everyone is an instrument, this is our tiny quartet (except I guess it's a quartet of seven--however that works) of family. My family quartet. Septet.

Are you kind of following my train of thought here? Like--you don't have to understand what these broken instruments mean or whatever, but just understand that something isn't right, and it's causing lots of strain in my Septet. And that's making me Lacrimoso. And Stressed-i-moso. (I just made that up in case you weren't quite sure.)

And things are supposed to be so exciting right now! But they're not. Instead, people are angry, conductors are fighting, band members are being treated poorly, instruments are copping out. Everything is in shambles! We sound terrible! No one wants anything to do with this Septet, or our performances because we're terribly out of tune. With each other, with God. It's so hard to deal with! And I'm not exempt. My song isn't sounding the best. And I'd be lying if I said that I didn't get mad at those band members who have messed up instruments. I'm angry that they don't try and fix it. I'm frustrated and don't quite act the way I should. And sometimes I feel like if only we had different band members. If only we were a quartet. Maybe a pentatet. Maybe thing would be better.

I don't know how to fix the instruments, but I know who can! God can. He's the instrument repair guy. He's the go-to for every screw up. And yet, I don't know how to get those instruments to the repair guy.

I just wish things were simpler. I wish I knew what was going on. I wish I was a better person, one that could figure out the answer to this mess and who would be able to bring the suggestion to the conductors. But I can't. So I let them duke it out. And I wonder to myself, how long we're going to last.

I can't help but feeling that this Septet is going to be a very Lacrimoso solo soon.

I don't want to speak that into my life, I don't want to speak that over my family, I just want results. I pray for peace. The Shalom kind of peace. All encompassing, every facet of life kind of peace. I want that for our little Septet.

Please God. Help.

--Trumpet Player  

Acciaccatura

A jammed in, crushed, crammed, stuffed note played as quickly as possible on the beat. 

That's my life right now. Everything is crammed, stuffed, "scrammed" as my mom says, into the closest proximity possible. It's like there's this proverbial "note" and everything has to be done in this one note, and I have to try and keep it on the beat too!

Though it's not necessarily a bad thing. An Acciaccatura isn't necessarily a bad thing. It wouldn't be a musical term if it were, right? There would be no direction to play Acciaccatura if it were something you wanted to avoid. That being said, you certainly wouldn't want to do it all the time! And this is certainly a season of time that I wouldn't want to characterize my entire life. 
At least, I don't think that I would.
 
So college life! That's the main source of my Acciaccatura. My jammed in, scrammed in, crushed in (crushed is the actual word, I added the rest) Acciaccatura. 
I always heard that University is hard, but I mean, high school was supposed to be hard too, right? And I had the right attitude, motivation, and determination (okay maybe that's going a little far), I had the right study habits to get through with flying colors. And then I got to University and got slapped with my first under eighty marks and I felt like I was going to just freak out and break down.
 
Oh yah! There's something else that I neglected to mention. 


That whole teacher thing? Well I started my Education degree (I can't remember if I mentioned that I was taking my Education degree) but I've changed my mind. I want to finish my education degree and then go to med school. I've been enthralled with this idea of being a doctor. I can imagine myself rushing around a hospital, and getting a Starbucks at the cafeteria, and 
answering a page, and all those crazy things!

Except I'm not actually sure that I can, I just really want to be able to see myself doing that because I can really see myself taking med school, and loving med school. 

Yah I know I'm indecisive. But there are so many things out there that are amazing and fun and would be a great way to spend my life! There are things I want to do to impact people. 
But there's one thing that I really want to do. Like-really really want to do. 

Okay so I have to backtrack a pretty long ways before I can tell you what I really want to do in this crammed up, jammed up, crushed in, forced in, slammed, life. 

So that really huge, awesome, amazing church that I went too? Well it's still huge, awesome, and amazing, but I'm just not going there anymore. And not because of anything bad. Just because me and my family accidentally stumbled upon this other, quite a bit smaller church, that we're needed at right now. 

I'm a youth leader there. And I love it. I really really love it. 

We've been doing youth alpha there, which is this program meant to question things and delve into the heart of Christianity. It's about learning the truth, and not just accepting what you hear, and making sure you know the facts about what you believe if believing in God is something you want to do. 

That's what I get from it anyway. 

And there are these leaders on the videos who do the coolest thing ever! They just travel and preach and talk to people about God, and that's what I want to do! I want to get in planes, and backpack through forests, and preach the gospel, and do it the way they do it. To reach young people, and to be cool and engaging, and to use all this cool technology but to incorporate the wilderness and stuff. 

I don't know how to explain it properly, and I'm going to go watch Criminal Minds with my family anyways. 

I just wanted to let you folks know that I haven't forgotten about you! 

I'll have to explain things in some better detail later. 

Anyways! There you go!

-Trumpet Player