At the trombone workshop
"I am glad we're not the oldest people here" I said to the balding, white-haired wrinkly teetering beside me behind the tiny lads and lasses with specially written parts because their arms are too short to play beyond third position.
"No", he said, "I am sixty next birthday !"
"Are you really ? And how old would you say that I am ?"
"Oh, I don't know", he said, "Fifty-six ?"
So I hooked my slide round his, gave a quick jerk and sent his dentures flying... (not really...)
There was a display of like really expensive brass intruments 'à libre essai' which means you can have a go. The tinies had a wonderful time blasting on £7000 tubas ! I had a go on a pichotte, a tenorhorn. That took me back ! It's alarmingly easy to play after the trombone !
Thomas needs a new case that he can carry on his back on the bicycle, and there was this lovely one on display. He bravely asked the price. "250€" We got up off the floor and reflected that it is made of real kangaroo leather, but worth more than the trombone..
Renaud's other pupil was there. Neither of us had ever seen him, we just know he's Jérôme the fireman.
"I tell you it's him."
"He's not old enough to be a fireman."
"Come on, he's mid-twenties, and he looks like a fireman."
We were both too chicken to go up and ask but later the guy piled his case by ours. I said "Es-tu pompier ?" (Are you a fireman)
"Oui. Ca se voit ?" (Yes, can you tell ?)
"Tu t'appelles Jérôme ?"
"Oui."
"Voilà, je t'ai dit ! Nous sommes les autres élèves de Renaud."
I saw Albert, director of the school of music afterwards. I confessed to him that I have tried to solve the bells and whips problem by asking Renaud to borrow them from the army percussionists. "That's a good initiative", said Albert, so he didn't mind.
I said "Hey, I had a go on a pichotte."
"Where did you learn that word ?", he said.
Oh no. Not again ! Renaud ?
"No", he said, "I am sixty next birthday !"
"Are you really ? And how old would you say that I am ?"
"Oh, I don't know", he said, "Fifty-six ?"
So I hooked my slide round his, gave a quick jerk and sent his dentures flying... (not really...)
There was a display of like really expensive brass intruments 'à libre essai' which means you can have a go. The tinies had a wonderful time blasting on £7000 tubas ! I had a go on a pichotte, a tenorhorn. That took me back ! It's alarmingly easy to play after the trombone !
Thomas needs a new case that he can carry on his back on the bicycle, and there was this lovely one on display. He bravely asked the price. "250€" We got up off the floor and reflected that it is made of real kangaroo leather, but worth more than the trombone..
Renaud's other pupil was there. Neither of us had ever seen him, we just know he's Jérôme the fireman.
"I tell you it's him."
"He's not old enough to be a fireman."
"Come on, he's mid-twenties, and he looks like a fireman."
We were both too chicken to go up and ask but later the guy piled his case by ours. I said "Es-tu pompier ?" (Are you a fireman)
"Oui. Ca se voit ?" (Yes, can you tell ?)
"Tu t'appelles Jérôme ?"
"Oui."
"Voilà, je t'ai dit ! Nous sommes les autres élèves de Renaud."
I saw Albert, director of the school of music afterwards. I confessed to him that I have tried to solve the bells and whips problem by asking Renaud to borrow them from the army percussionists. "That's a good initiative", said Albert, so he didn't mind.
I said "Hey, I had a go on a pichotte."
"Where did you learn that word ?", he said.
Oh no. Not again ! Renaud ?
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