My Creativeness

As a young child my parents forced me to start playing the piano, they signed me up for one lesson every week. After about two years of that I just could not stand playing the piano anymore, practicing the same scales time after time, playing and practicing the same old songs for weeks or even months at a time, and the thought of performing in a recital in front of a couple of hundred people scared the crap out of me when I was six years old. Even today performing in front of people is not my idea of a good time. About a week after I had quit my lessons, I realized how much I actually enjoyed playing the piano. At first I was a little embarrassed to play in front of my parents, because I had no idea how they would have reacted to me playing it. But after a few times of messing around with it, I finally sat down and started playing a bunch of songs out of memory. They were surprised that I actually started playing again for my own enjoyment. A few years down the road, I was at my grandparents house and stumbled upon an old trombone and trumpet that had belonged to my uncles. I got them out and played around with them for a few hours, eventually until my lip swelled up due to the brass mouth piece. When I was in fifth grade when the junior high band directors came to our school to let us try out the different instruments. Knowing from previous experience that I could not play any of the brass instruments, I had to pick from the woodwinds. I got a chance to try out most of the different woodwind instruments, but the one that stood out to me the most was the alto saxophone. So that is what I picked to play. That following summer before I started sixth grade, my mom bought me my very own saxophone, and played around with it for hours every night for weeks on end. For the first few weeks all of the squawking and squeaking sounded like a bird being tortured to death. But eventually I progressed and it began to sound better and better each day. By the time I got to high school, the new directors wanted me to play the baritone saxophone because they had none for the marching band. I eagerly took the chance, but realized a little late that the baritone saxophone weighed fifty more pounds than my previous alto. It was not a big issue because I'm a pretty big guy, and naturally a little more exercise was not going to hurt me. Throughout high school, I started listening to classic rock and some metal which eventually led up to me receiving my first electric guitar in tenth grade. Out of all the instruments that I have played throughout my life, it is still my favorite, I intend to play for a bit tonight once I finish writing this blog entry.  So I guess the best way for me to channel my energies growing up was with music, from the piano to the guitar, I have always loved playing well known songs and adding a little twist to it or making up my own. Throughout my time at school I was never a social butterfly, but I never got bored if one of my friends could not hangout that night, because I was always able to sit down at the piano or pick up my guitar and play  until it was time for bed. To this day I still play my guitar every night out in our separated garage, so I do not disturb my parents. I occasionally pick up my saxophone and wipe the dust off of it and I am a bit rusty at the piano, but a few minutes of practice and I can usually get back to where I was pretty quick.  

Childhood Memory

The first thing I remember from my childhood memory happened when I was around 4 years old. It was a pretty normal day overall. I had gone to my elementary school that morning, Stephen F. Austin, and after that my school bus had dropped me off at my daycare that me and my sister went too. After a few hours at the daycare my grandma came to pick us up to take my sister and I back to her house. As soon as we saw her car pulling up we darted to her and were ready to go, as usual my sister got to sit in the front seat of the car since she was older than me and I always got jealous of her for that. Since my grandparents only lived about ten minutes away from my parents house, we would often go over there if my mom or dad had to work late which was fine with me cause I loved it at their house. After we got buckled up she started talking to us about how our days at school had been, if we were doing good in our class and if we liked our teachers, how our friends were doing and if we had homework that night. Eventually the small talk ended and she informed me that on the upcoming weekend we were going to be visiting Schlitterbahn in New Braunfels, the worlds largest water park. I had never heard of it and had absolutely no idea what is was and for reasons I am still unsure of I started crying and whining to no end, if you had seen me you would of thought my pet goldfish had just died or something. I was a very upset kiddo, I cried and complained for the rest of the ride until we got to the house where my grandpa finally calmed me down by taking me out on their golf cart. Its not like I hated the water, or was afraid of anything so I am not sure why I began to cry like that. Of course that weekend eventually came around and it was the most fun I had ever had in my life, from the sun being out to the awesome tube rides. The whole time I was there I could not stop thinking about how silly of me it was to be whining about such an awesome place. I am not sure why I had started crying and complaining about going to Schlitterbahn in the car that day, and I am not sure why sixteen or seventeen years later I can pretty vividly recall that memory, but I can. Maybe it is because I had just never been to it or heard of it before so I was just scared, or maybe it was for a different reason. For whatever reason it was I think its funny I made such a big deal out of something that turned out to be so awesome and fun.