From time to time, I'll post an
anecdote about a musical experience, and someone will say, 'Rich, you
should write a book'. Yeah, well thanks. I don't know that I have the desire to make
that kind of commitment, and besides, who would care about it? And then
of course there's the 'even if I wrote a book, then I'd have to
market it, I don't know how to market it, oh no sounds like a losing
proposition'. Short answer, 'no, I don't think about writing a
book'. That said...
If I was to write about some of the unforgettable musical experiences I've been privileged to share in, this
one would have to be at the top of the list. It's got the magical
quality about it, something unexpected, and deeply emotional. I
still get choked up if I try to tell the story using my voice. And
it goes like this:
I was heading to a gig that I didn't
want to do. Rare for me, but I came to feel that way about doing
music in the after-school setting. The kids have been in school all day, they're burnt out, they
need to just chill, they need to be outdoors, I didn't feel like
I had anything suitable for this weekly gig. I was about three
classes in, and it wasn't going well.
The school is in East Springfield, and
as I headed there from Eugene on a Monday afternoon, I saw the strangest thing as I crossed
over Interstate 5 heading east. We had just come through a big storm
and in front of me was a dynamic mountain scape of fresh snowfall,
lit up brilliantly by the afternoon sun. The thing is, I had never
even noticed that you get a view of the mountains for about 10
seconds on an elevated stretch of road. I'm usually concentrating on
the road I guess, I had never noticed until today they was a powerful mountain view all lit up brilliantly. How had I never noticed this?
And the day in the valley was just
incredible, seasonably warm for late fall, one of those bonus days
that come along if you're lucky. I just couldn't face teaching
indoors on a day like this, so I scouted the outside area looking for
a place to bring the class. Yeah this'll work, a spot under a tree,
beautiful and sunny. I went and told the kids, 'We're gonna do music
outdoors today, it's so beautiful out. But if anybody messes around at
all, we're coming back inside. It's up to you.' So we gathered the
supplies, a ukulele, a steel drum, a guitar, some shakers and
percussion, the scarves, whatever else. And we played a little music
as we walked to the spot, it was like a little band of traveling
musicians heading toward the gig. This one boy grabbed the uke and
strummed it, imitating me as we walked, he was me in a way, I played
along in C, the kid carrying the steel pan made some music, it was
real. We were together.
And somehow we made up a story and I
made up music along the way, and we acted it out. The story is
called 'The Magic Bird'.
First a word about the kids. They were
a tough group, a lot of 'special needs' it seemed to me, 3rd
and 4th graders. There are always one or
two kids in a group who are challenging, less able to get into the
group-cooperation idea, but this group had more than a couple. Yet on this one day, they were angels.
I don't know how the story emerged but
once it started, it just took flight. There was a 'magic bird' that no one
had ever seen, but a legend from long long ago told that if the magic
bird ever appeared, then all problems would go away and everyone
would live together in peace. As time went on, people treated each
other badly and the legend was forgotten. Hopelessness was in the
air. Until a traveler came to town playing his ukulele. (yes it was
my mini doppelganger who played the part of the traveler; he was so
proud) The traveler came to town and saw the people arguing and
fighting, being mean to each other. (we acted those scenes out as
well). And the traveler told the story about the magic bird, that if
you see him, all troubles will go away.
The most challenging child in the class
started taking the multi-colored scarves and tucking them into his
clothing, becoming the colorful bird. Other kids started
helping him and before long he was covered head to toe with scarves,
he looked amazing. And he had to hide away, listening to the arguing
and fighting, waiting for his entrance to save the day. And this is
the part that makes me cry. This boy, maybe 8 years old seemed
awfully neglected and in need of attention. He was misbehaving
regularly and clearly had it in his head that he was a bad kid and
likely unlovable. I'm guessing it was a rough environment at home;
you can just tell. And now everyone was waiting for him, hoping to
catch a glimpse of him, wanting him, needing him. The kid was
pulsating with feeling as he waited, he was so excited! And then he
flew in to everyone's cheering and affection, they came to hug him
and tell him that they needed him, and I'm telling you, it blew my
mind. And everyone lived happily ever after....
We finished the story and sat under the
tree before packing up our stuff and marching back to the classroom,
still playing music. The veil got lifted on that sunny afternoon.
And when I came the next week with the idea of developing it further,
nope, it was back to the grind, back to reality, did that really
happen? Yup it really happened.
