Master of Intimidation

This morning, I was thinking of skinny, pre-pre puberty Jacques. He was a character. And a musical genius, as you might have heard about 1395 times by now. ;) But it's true! He was extremely gifted in reading music, perseverance in practicing, learning by ear, improvising, etc. At this time in his life (maybe 11/12?), he was all about trombone. He would practice hours a day in the living room while everyone else tried to carry on with their daily functions. The blats and strange noises, sometimes meriting the title of music, became such a part of the day that we stopped complaining and began enjoying it! His enthusiasm was contagious. He would get so excited and try to take on pieces that were way too difficult for his level, but he would keep practicing, and one day wake up and it would sound incredible! He loved themed music books: Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Movie Classics, the Oldies...He would put on the cheesy little accompaniment CD with its background music and play along. It was such a time of joy! Even amid the many wrong notes, his playing was something we all shared a love and excitement for.

Shortly after his trombone playing became decent, I started taking violin lessons. If there's any sound more painful than a beginner musician playing on a beginner violin, let me know please. It would make me feel better about my teenage self. ha! Anyway, it could be quite horrendous. Still, I had the same perseverance as Jacques and would practice over and over again...though, in my room to spare my family. My friend Allison and I actually began at the same time and took lessons together. Thus, it was only natural that for our recital piece we would perform a duet!

Enter Jacques. (And the memory that caused me to write this).

Or, more realistically:

Enter Jacques, bursting-open-the-door, maniacally-thrashing-a-backscratcher.

Yes. Jacques had a simple, wooden backscratcher that was one of his most prized possessions. Its length was roughly from elbow to fingertip, and it had a short red ribbon tied to one end. Not surprisingly, it was used very little for backscratching. In this case, it served a duel purpose as conductor baton and instrument of torture.

Back to the story...Jacques would run into the room to "help" us practice. He was more skilled at reading sheet music than either Allison or I. He literally did spend hours helping us with timing, notes, dynamics...He was a generous teacher. I can still remember him shouting above the noise of our instruments "one AND two AND three-ee-AND-uh four AND"...Allison and I had fun because we were learning and playing together. Jacques had fun because he had power and he knew it. And loved it. Jacques was thrilled when he had creative power, the upper hand. Whatever he used...manipulation, debating skills, intimidation, instruments of torture (including dishrags, pool noodles, and backscratchers)...he loved to instill fun fear into others. It was kind of ridiculous.

With a huge grin that engulfed his little face, he would wave his "baton" in the air (or rhythmically hit the music stand), setting a pace which we frantically attempted to keep. He waited...and waited...until one of us played a dud note.

"WHAP!"

The unspoken deal was that if we hit a sour note, he could beat us with the backscratcher. His smile would get even bigger (it was unhuman) as he would hold the weapon above us, and with a self-satisfied air, give us our due punishment. O the smug, unspoken joy he gleaned from these "lessons"!

It got to the point where our violin posture was messed up because we learned to play hunched over in self-protection mode. We came as close to curling into a ball while playing a violin as humanly possible. And then we couldn't even play because we were cringing in fear. And gasping for breath between hysterical bouts of laughter.

Good times. And now you know something new about the tyrant who was my little brother, Jacques. :)

And I didn't even talk about the dishtowel torture...