I always have AIM open when I am working at my computer. You may ask yourself why. That is my means of communicating with my college-aged children. Yes, I am friends with them on Facebook but true conversation usually takes place via phone call or AIM.
My little story starts last week when good, ole #5 started classes. For a second semester freshman, he has a fairly cushy schedule once his sport season is over – no Tues/Thurs classes at all. He calls it, “every day is a Friday.” I am hoping he doesn’t take that theory too far.
Last week the phone call came. “I hate this place.” He is majoring in music industry. A prerequisite for his music theory classes is a class called musicianship. He dutifully signed up for it, figuring it was his easy A class for this semester. First day of the class and the instructor asks a question along the lines of “who can play an instrument?” Pretty good question since all students needed to audition when they arrived in August. Up go some of the hands, including #5. The results – go take this test on music theory. You do not need this class.
In the process of taking said test, #5 mentions he plays trombone. Granted, he does not own a trombone as this was his second instrument, started in high school because of a need in his performance groups. #5 heads to his second day of Musicianship class to see if he passed the test – which he did – and the instructor says something along the lines of “I have a trombone for you. Meet me at my office on Monday at 3.”
Monday rolls around and I head to the grocery store. When I get home, there is a phone message from #5. Evidently, #6 thought this was so important that he wrote it down on my star-shaped sticky note. Yes, the 15 year old wrote down exactly what his older brother said, profanity and all. I cannot escape the language shift that comes with going to college. #5 is now playing in the Jazz Big Band.
Yesterday – yes, this little exercise in communication has spread itself over several days – #5 pops up in my AIM. “I think I am going to buy a trombone.” I had looked into buying him a trombone last year, checked with his band instructor, looked on Craig’s List. Then, he said he wasn’t going to play at college and not to bother. I let it go.
I told him to check with his former high school music teacher. Robin may have some ideas on people who may be selling a trombone. He then says to me, “This should have been a blog post. The things I have learned in college, volume 4.”
Moral: “When you have no intentions of playing trombone don’t tell a music professor you used to because 1) there’s a shortage at this school and 2) he will find an ensemble for you.” Directly from #5 as I copied and pasted the conversation into a word document so I would remember what he said.
We closed our day long, off and on IM session with me telling him I was glad he had found the Jazz Band or that it had found him. His response, “it found me was the way I told Lina (his high school band director) … I tried to avoid it and it came looking.”
I am sure this not the type of blog post #5 had anticipated when he said this should be a blog post but here you go. Part of a day in the life of a parent with college-aged children.