I grew up playing instruments, but like many young musicians, the habit didn’t last into adulthood. I’ve always appreciated music, and the sound of instruments beautifully played, but I haven’t been the one playing them.
So it went until a handful of years ago. Right about the time that I hit the road on our Wild Places journey, my niece started to play the ukulele. My sister quickly followed suit, and I decided that I could squeeze ones into Hobbes, as well. Though I’m still quite rubbish at the ukulele (stringed instruments never really being my forte), I like being able to strum and pick away when the mood strikes me. My sisters, niece, and I even recorded a ukulele Christmas album for my mom a couple of years ago.
Recently, after a jag of listening to Irish traditional music while I worked, I decided that I’d like to try to play a trad instrument. I surveyed the options—fiddle (ugh, the strings), drum (I like to play melodies more than beats), Uilleann pipes (I wouldn’t even know where to begin), and the tin whistle.
Ah ha, I thought. The tin whistle.
One of the first band instruments I played was the flute, and though after a few years I switched over to the brass section and played the euphonium, I knew I had some experience with woodwinds. I did a bit of research and quickly purchased a tin whistle and a beginners song book.
I’ve had the setup for a little less than a week, and I’m having so much fun. It’s amazing that, even though I haven’t truly played an instrument in years, the lessons of all my childhood music teachers are still buried inside.
The tin whistle can only play a handful of notes in two octaves, so I quickly taught myself those and started to work my way through easier Irish jigs, reels, and hornpipes. I use the method that my high school band teacher taught—play it through once (no matter how awful it sounds), and then slow down the tempo, working through the song measure by measure.
With methodical and determined practice, I can eventually make it through the whole song without error, playing slow. Then I play it a bit faster, and a bit faster, and a bit faster until I’m at the correct pace for the tune.
Amazing how much sticks in our minds, after so many years.
I wasn’t sure how the dogs would like the tin whistle, but they are adapting just fine. Lemhi’s hearing is so poor that he doesn’t know that I have it. Cece was interested for a day and has now accepted the sound as part of her life. Mike, too, is tolerant of the occasional squeaking and squawking that filters through the house to his ears.
I can only play a handful of songs, but I consider that not too bad for a few days of practice. Maybe someday I’ll find some Irish musicians to play with, but for now, I’m just plodding along, filling a few precious moments each day with tunes of my own making.
