Facing the music

“Suggest termination of lessons as a complete waste of my time.”

That’s all it said.

It was validated by two, hurriedly, scribbled and barely legible initials.

Eleven words that really knocked me. One for each of my tender years at the time. They still hurt a little, nearly half a century later.

It was, without doubt, the worst written report I’d received throughout my entire time at school, sixth form and college.

It was far worse than any of my maths’ reports. They were never good, but they offered a degree or two of optimism and suggested I was, at the very least, trying.

Admittedly, I was not good with numbers. I was more adept with words. I knew what termination meant. Such an insensitive and irrevocable term within a cold, dispassionate sentence without further context.

Brutal and uncaring

I kept reading it over and over again. It felt brutal, uncaring. And it was going to take a lot of explaining. It also meant I was in trouble.

Having discarded the idea of removing the offending narrative altogether through a painstaking disassembly of the report, I decided to face the music.

Ironic really, as those stark words penned uncaringly by my rather fusty, middle-aged, guitar teacher were about to terminate any ambitions I might have had of pursuing a musical path.

I remember biting painfully into my lower, inner, side lip and breaking through the soft tissue as my parents scrutinised the report’s wafer thin, one-third A4 pages, stapled within the light-blue outer cover bearing the school crest.

Matter closed

Apparently, I was one of those unfortunate individuals who wasn’t blessed with musicality. I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but that was the upshot of the subsequent follow-up with the school. My teacher didn’t think music and the guitar, in particular, were for me.

Matter closed. I didn’t have another music lesson after that.

I was no Eric Clapton and Brian May was in little danger of having to rethink his early career ascent with Red Special. I was struggling to master the three chords required for ‘She’ll Be Coming Round The Mountain’ (G, D7 and C for the interested among you).

I was never destined to become a professional musician. I knew that, but I could have strummed a few chords in a school band, surely?

I’ve always regretted not playing a musical instrument, particularly as I’ve got older. I always believed that door was closed on me.

Always loved music

Of course, the unfortunate episode didn’t stop me listening to and enjoying music, of all types. I’ve always loved music.

While writing, I derive considerable enjoyment and inspiration from a diverse and totally random selection of playlists (The Swings of Central Park, Alexandre Desplat, as I write). Music fills the background to my thoughts while I strike the keyboard that accompanies the career I eventually embarked on — Words.

During one of the many obscure reflections prompted by lockdown, bizarrely, those 11 words re-surfaced. Not only had they stayed with me all these years, they were remarkably vivid and, somehow, resonated.

I’m not sure why, but I decided that it wasn’t going to be the end of the matter.

Not just because the words had crushed the little confidence I’d had when it came to music back then, but because they’d also removed what little credibility I was trying to build in myself at the time. To me, it felt as though I was the ‘total waste of time’.

Chinese proverb

Whenever my eldest daughter and I contemplate something that would have produced a better outcome had it been completed already, we bring to mind one of our favourite Chinese proverbs:

The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.

With that thought in mind, the best time for me to have learnt a musical instrument was five decades ago. It’s a little later in the day than I’d have liked, but the next best time is now.

Curiously, my new music teacher was introduced to me by my younger, also grown-up, daughter.

An exceptional musician with a fantastic approach to teaching. He’s much younger than my first teacher, extremely understanding and patient. Those latter qualities are going to be called upon. His reports on my progress are verbal, considered, encouraging and ongoing.

Duff notes

Two-months into my lessons, practicing an hour a day, while I’m not yet quite able to get through my first song without hitting a volley of duff notes, the tune is almost recognisable and progress is being made.

I’ve got a deck of music, crammed with drills and exercises, but crucially, interspersed with familiar songs to look forward to and a timetable to work with that I can input into. It’s all so flexible and refreshing.

I look forward to the lessons every Thursday evening. On occasions, during this second lockdown, they’ve been virtual and that gives them another exciting dynamic. They’re fun. We laugh and I can feel my musical confidence slowly growing. I’m enjoying it.

It’s a change from the guitar and perhaps a little less conventional, but then I’ve always been keen on the bagpipes. It’s got a lot to do with a Scottish heritage I’m immensely proud of.

Since starting, I’ve discovered that my new teacher, a MacDonald, is not just an outstanding musician. He and I, a McColl, have roots that tie us to a Scottish history we both have a passion for. That and a shared appreciation for an occasional smooth, single malt.

Musical challenge

It’s certainly not the easiest instrument to learn and not always the most popular, but it’s given me a new and invigorating musical purpose.

I’m working to a two-year plan. I’ve almost mastered Skye Boat Song on my chanter. Among the scales, notes and strikes, Amazing Grace is the next musical challenge I’m looking forward to tackling.

My only regret is not having planted this particular pipedream many years earlier. However, while my personal musical career may have been put on hold for the best part of 50 years, I’m determined not to let this opportunity pass me by. The next best time really is now.

I already have my first public performance to work towards and although it’s some way off just yet, it’s keeping my mind focused.

Both my teacher and second eldest daughter felt this was important and, naturally, I don’t want to disappoint either of them when they walk down the aisle together.

An occasion on which I will be incredibly proud and happy to face the music.