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That's Not Really What You Want


Posted by Non-Hamster on March 3rd, 2014

Ever had somebody do this to you?

There was a time some years ago that I had developed an interest in learning to play an instrument.  Specifically the Tenor Sax.  The reason was simple enough, I liked how it sounded.

When I talked to my wife about this she seemed supportive at first but once she figured out that I was serious about this it didn't take more than a few days for her to start telling me that I shouldn't start with the sax.

She presented a strangely convincing argument that I should start with something less costly like a clarinet which, according to her (who had never played a sax) would be easier to pick up.

After about three weeks of this I found myself browsing various web retailers for clarinets, music stands, instructional books, clarinet cases from musicians friend and so on ... the whole shooting match.

Within another two weeks my wife had bought a clarinet on ebay and according to her, everything I needed to learn it.

I started in and did my best with it.  However there was one problem that made it difficult.  It didn't have the sound I had wanted.  It wasn't a tenor sax.

Not only that but there was something wrong with one of the keys.  there were two or three notes that I could not create no matter what.  My wife looked at it (she had played clarinet in high school) and proclaimed it in perfect condition, yet no matter what I did those notes never worked.

Then at one point I was looking over records and noticed how much the whole clarinet setup had cost in total.  I did some quick checking and found that, contrary to what my wife had insisted upon, it would have cost the same OR EVEN LESS to set me up with a tenor sax to learn on like I had wanted to do in the first place.

I put the clarinet away and haven't touched it since.

This whole thing of ending up with something that was a bit "off" from what you had made clear that you wanted is something that my wife had spent an incalculable number of hours complaining that people had done to her all her life and here she was doing the same bloody thing to me.

The part that really roasted my cookies is that I had let her do it to me once again.  You see this wasn't the first time.  Just one of the larger ones.  She'd been doing it to one degree or another since 6 months or so after we got married.

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