Brass roots

Tonight I spent time with my handbell choir, and I had a blast. Although there are people my age in it, the majority of the members are adults (well, technically speaking). It’s nice to hang out with older people and remind myself that life is a big huge thing (yeah, it’s late, so forgive my advanced word choice). Some of these people have been through divorce, others are expecting grandkids soon, and others…well, let’s just say that they never grew up and are kids at heart. :) One thing I love is the gentle teasing that goes on in the group -- we’re all fairly comfortable around each other, and as a result no one is ever allowed to take himself/herself too seriously. As I looked around at everyone tonight, I realized that we really thrive on bringing out the quirks of each person in the group. And every time we encourage someone’s quirkiness and he/she responds appropriately, lots of laughter and glee follow. And the cycle continues. Add a hot tub, pizza, hawaiian shirts, and music, and the night only gets better. :)

In other news, this week was a great week for talking with people about music (different styles of music, and technicalities and nuances in music). After growing up in such a music/band culture, it’s been weird to be out in MI, where a lot of people I know aren’t active in performing ensembles (my roomie and handbell people excluded). :) I’m completely convinced that being part of a musical group teaches you a lot of really good lessons about life, and gives you a healthy perspective about your role in the world. If nothing else, you at least learn to twirl drumsticks...and count to 4 (and 2 and 3 and 6 and 7 and 8 and maybe 11 if you're lucky). :)