When I was a kid, I always wanted two things: to teach Seminary and to play music. I'm not saying those were my only goals because mission, school, family have always been, you know, up there on my to-do list. But with regards to a dream job, I wanted to teach Seminary full-time and play music on the side.
Here I am, years later. I was able to go through the Seminary teacher training program and even had the opportunity to teach some Seminary classes, which was a marvelous experience. However, the dream of teaching full-time ended in 2008. I won't go so far to say that I was devastated, but I did have a hard time swallowing the news. As the months passed, even until now, I still have visions of "what could have been." But, reality check! Seminary is over. What about the dream to play music?
Some time in 2006, I was looking at different options for regular playing gigs around the Salt Lake Valley. I always had an eye out on the message boards in the music stores I frequent for any news of bands needing a trumpet player. I'm not sure how I came across this, but for some reason I found some information about playing in the Utah National Guard 23rd Army Band. After looking into it, I decided that it was too much of a time commitment for a college student/slash new father, but my curiosity had been engaged. In an attempt to learn more about the Guard band program, I contacted a liaison for the mid-western region. He taught me not only about the National Guard band, but also about the Army's full-time bands. Though I did not join any of them at the time, correspondence with him continued on and off for the next few years. Mostly, he would email me and ask how school was going and say something along the lines of, "So, when do you graduate, again?"
Speaking of graduation, as 2008 came to a close, I found myself seriously going over the career options I saw in front of me. I could try to keep living off of private trumpet lessons for another couple of years while I earned a Masters Degree; perhaps I could work for an instrument making company, there is one in Sandy; maybe I'll just move to Japan and teach English. With all of these thoughts swirling in my head (they seemed to be swirling in my stomach, too, as the Unknown tends to give me gas), I, almost in desperation, recalled what I had learned about the Army bands. I contacted the liaison and requested as much information as he could send me. From this point, he would contact me once a week to see if I had any questions.
On one February morning, I got an email from him saying that he was coming up to BYU (from Las Vegas) and we could set up an audition if I wanted to. I figured, why not? A few days later, I met him in the HFAC at BYU and went through the toughest audition of my life: not just a prepared piece, but a piece that effectively showcased specific trumpet skills of tonguing and range; all 12 major scales, two octaves with arpeggios, in 16-th notes at 80 bpm; all three types of minor scales in all 12 keys, two octaves with arpeggios, in 16-th notes at 80 bpm; a chromatic scale from as low as possible to as high as possible and back; sight-reading of six or seven rough etudes; and some Jazz techniques.
Fortunately, I passed. I didn't really expect it at the time, but that 20-minute audition changed my entire life. After a few weeks of discussion, thought, and prayer, my wife and I decided that joining the Army full-time would be the best thing for our family.
I ship to Fort Jackson, SC, for Basic Training on July 1st, then I go to the Army's School of Music in Norfolk, VA, for six months. Upon graduation of the School of Music, we will move to San Antonio, TX, where Fort Sam Houston is. After my required 3 years of service are up, we will decide if we want to make a career out of the Army band, or use the experience there gained to see what other doors can be opened.
To sum up, I am living a life-long fantasy. I didn't get to teach Seminary full-time, but I did get to teach Seminary. Now, I get to have a life as a full-time, professional trumpet player. I can't ask for more. Well, not much more.
again...
