Yesterday I was kinda telling a story about my late brother and not trying to tackle feminism and sexual harassment and whatever all in one post. I don’t have the writing chops to do that in a daily blahg or ever. But well, what *about* female trombone players?

Yes, they exist! There were/are three in the FinFam. My [late] aunt Bubs, a niece, and a relatively new in-law. I dunno what it was like for Bubs to play in the Soo High bone section back in her day. There was ONE female trombonist in my high school band and she seemed to be able to dish it out as well as any of the guys. I actually have NO MEMORY of how many female trombonists were in the groups I played in at Interlochen or in college. Interlochen? I’m sure there were a few. College? No clue.

I was participating in virtual Oscar Tango porterzoomation when I wrote yesterday’s blahg so you get what you get. Were we arguing about the Russian Revolution again? If so, why? (Don’t answer that!) Upon reflection, I have been thinking that some of the stuff those old trombone players said and did would probably get them kicked out of school nowadays. I probably remember it more fondly than some others because people didn’t really try to mess with me that often. I was [usually] wind symphony first chair flute and there were a handful of [male] band members who knew me (and my brother) from high school in Siberia and I suspect there was a third reason but I’m not gonna go there.

I will go on record to say I don’t think people should EVER bully or harass ANYONE. BUT. I also think that our society is not oriented towards providing young people with the tools they need to stand up against that kind of crapola. As a young music student I watched so many of my female peers struggle with harassment mainly from male professors and I had ONE episode of my own, which I LEARNED FROM. Why these old fossils think they might be attractive to the average 20-year-old, I will never figure out. Hint: it isn’t because of your musical proficiency. We admire your playing but we want to LEARN from you, not SLEEP with you. Young ladies, stand with a fist!

Floating around out on social media somewhere is a wonderful high school pic of my brother and a couple of his friends playing their instruments wearing Mexican style PONCHOS! It’s probably a yearbook pic but it isn’t in any of my yearbooks because I was in college by then. Instead you get this pic of him after destroying our old moomincabin outhouse. He sent the pic to his colleagues in the auto company and yes my blahg seems to have taken a dive from G-rated this week. I am sorry. Or not.

To balance this one out, the second pic is of our parents BUILDING the outhouse back in the day. I have a LOT of outhouse stories but let’s not go there today.

P.S. Apologies to Joel, a fantastic trumpet player who could play a mean screech trumpet (google it). He was also one of my brother’s best friends and a good friend of mine who, while we were both at Moo-U, braved many rides to and from the yooperland in the snow with meeee at the wheel of my CRAPPY old rusty green Pinto Wagon. I haven’t seen or heard from him in years and I’m sure he knows nothing about this blahg of blather but when I stereotyped trumpet players I wasn’t thinking about Joel and feel compelled to make it right by him.