Why I Wasn’t Famous

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Saturday 09 November, 2013 by Uncle Spike

When I was a scrawny little lad at primary school, my mum had thoughts of betterment for her second child. It’s a natural ‘parenty’ type of thing to do…

From the evidence she had gained from numerous unsuccessful parents evenings, she had her doubts, and rightly so as it turned out, that I was ever destined to become the next Stephen Hawking, Michael Douglas, George Best, or even George Michael. In her wisdom, mum decided, as many parents do, to try and make said small person into a serious musician at least; you know, those beautiful people who make beautiful music for the rest of us heathens to enjoy.

Anyway, at the beginning of term, I rode the 5km to school on my trusty old bike, charged with making my own arrangements for music lessons as a path for my obvious future career in pop or classical stardom. Mum had envisioned that by the end of the week, I would be learning to play the flute, or the violin, or perhaps even the piccolo.

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Now I would never say my mum was not pretty bright, but come on lady… you trusted me, the eternal rebel with make arrangements that ‘you’ had obviously approved (or that’s what I told the school music teacher) – seriously??

Needless to say, all ended brilliantly for me. Less well for mum.

That Friday my music career commenced, as I joined 3-4 others who were learning to play the DRUMS. Oh dear, poor mum. She was not happy.

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Was I any good? Not in the slightest… not exactly totally useless, but bordering on the edge of the precipice known as “able to generate music for the tone deaf”. All that money on music classes, special ‘classical’ drumsticks didn’t go to waste though… I played percussion in public within 18 months!

Now it should be noted that Uncle Spike does not tell porkies… I did play in public, sort of. There was the end of year school concert, or something like that, with all the orchestra, choir etc doing their bit to impress their bored-looking, but proud parents who were sat on some rather uncomfy school hall seats back in the mid 70’s.

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THAT’S ME, AT AT THE BACK

At the end of 90 very long minutes listening to young kids massacre some favourite classical melodies and torturing both their chosen instruments and their audience in equal share, I rose slowly from my humble stool at the back of the orchestra, and proudly went ‘ting’ on my triangle.

Yep, that was it, the culmination of 18 months training, expense and hearing loss from endless ‘at home’ practice sessions. My entire party piece was a single ‘ting’ on a ruddy triangle!!

All the best bits with the drums n stuff went to this other kid. To be fair, the boy could play, period. But who cares I guess if you are beaten by a winner, eh?  The lad went on to be a session drummer for some pretty famous bands! I did not. I did play the spoons in a bar once when I was 18 and drunk… but that was it on the musical career front for Uncle Spike.

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22 thoughts on “Why I Wasn’t Famous

  1. […] means of non-verbal communication has always been music for me (as a listener, not a player), and if you combine the two, you come up with the 1981 track by the ever so lovely Kim Carnes, […]

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  2. tchistorygal says:

    Funny! I’m not famous at the piano even though my mother was a child prodigy and a piano teacher. Performances were never my strong suit. 🙂 But look at you with your amazing stats! You have become famous in the blogging world! 🙂 Good going, Uncle Spike! Merry Christmas! 🙂

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  3. lizard100 says:

    I had a similar experience with guitar lessons. I worked out that lying about how much I practiced was good. So is say 20 mins rather than linger which might look to obvious. Suffice to say I didn’t master the art.

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  4. […] Harping back to my days as a percussion professional…  yeah, as if!  My musical days were very very short lived indeed, sad to say. Anyone remember the tale of Spike & His Triangle? […]

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  5. […] unless you count playing the spoons late one night in a pub back in 1984, oh and of course my début in the persuasion world… but that’s another […]

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  6. Well if I’m ever in Turkey and need a triangle tingler I’ll know who to call 😉

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  7. […] And in this last one, I’m the dude right at the back in what was my inaugural concert of my musical career. Actually it was also my last as this tale explains… […]

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  8. skinnyuz2b says:

    So ironic, and always funnier while looking back. My youngest daughter had to hit a block of wood with a drum stick thingy. The teacher told her she was hitting too delicately and to hit harder at the concert. She swung back for a big knock, clunked herself in the forehead, and burst out crying. She gave herself a big egg that lasted for days. Laughs at it now, as an adult.

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  9. newbloggycat says:

    Well at least there was some ‘ting’ in the musical career 😉

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  10. londoncab53 says:

    Hahahaha, this one made me laugh out loud! I love it-ting! It gave you a great story to pass on at the very least!

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  11. Missy T says:

    Um…I’m going deny that I was there too 😉 x

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