As mentioned in a previous article, I played the baritone/euphonium in high school. It’s not exactly a cool instrument, but I liked it. Hey, Brian Setzer used to play the baritone. Who is Brian Setzer? Never mind.
All-State Band
Alabama has honor band tryouts every winter for All-State Band. There were ten divisions in the state when I was in high school, and the top three winners of each division were allowed to attend All-State Band later that year. There are three All-State Bands, Red (best), White (middle), and Blue (worst). Maybe worst is the wrong term.
In the ninth grade, I tried out for All-State Band in Alexander City, Alabama, and was not one of the top three in my division.
In the tenth grade, I tried out for All-State Band in Alexander City and was not one of the top three in my division.
In the eleventh grade, my mother pointed out that I’d barely worked on the tryout music the two previous years, and she forced me to practice the music for a week. Due to my lack of discipline, I wasn’t excited about practicing this music. Still, I practiced for a week, then went to Alexander City and tried out for All-State Band. I walked into the audition room, and one of the judges was a college band director. I was nervous.
The first step in the tryout was playing twelve major scales. I knew the scales, and I said the name of each scale as I played it. I started freaking out, the pressure was on, and if I couldn’t play eight or nine scales, I wouldn’t be allowed to audition further. After playing (and naming) the first six scales correctly, my mind went blank, and I played the first six scales again and just said the names of the scales I was supposed to play. I was positive the college band director with a Ph.D. in music education would see through my con. When I realized I was going to get away with it, I calmed down and played well, except for the sight-reading.
Long story short, I was in the top three in my division and was in the Blue Band. When they called my name at the awards ceremony, I was thrilled.
The maximum score a competitor could achieve back then was about 102 points, 12 points for scales, 20 points for sight-reading, and the rest was from a series of exercises. I was (am) a terrible sight-reader, and my total score was in the 80s. I’m pretty sure I missed nearly all of the sight-reading points and was almost perfect on the rest. I later learned that the value of the sight-reading increased to 40 points after I left high school. No way could I have scored enough points to win with 40 points for sight-reading.
A few months later, my band director drove us to Tuscaloosa, Alabama for All-State Band. When we arrived, he said, “Have you been practicing the music?”
“What music?”
“The music you played at tryouts. You’ll need to play it so they can assign chairs.”
“I had no idea.” I had not been practicing. I didn’t bring my music book. I’m pretty sure no one told me that.
We borrowed a music book from a stranger. I practiced for a little while then auditioned again. My audition was weak, and I was the thirtieth best baritone player in the state out of thirty players. That irritated me a little. After hearing these people play, I was pretty sure I was at least twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth.
Still, I had a great time at Allstate Band. I rehearsed with the Blue Band, and we had a concert. I walked for miles exploring the University of Alabama campus. I heard an excellent guitarist play with the UA jazz ensemble and met this guitarist years later. We’re friends to this day.
The next year, my senior year in high school, my school had a new band director. One winter day, I asked him, when are All-S
tate Band tryouts, and he said they were last weekend. I kind of went mental on him, and he seemed a little stunned to learn that anyone from “this band” had made All-State band. Yes, he slammed the mighty Childersburg High School band. To be fair, I still couldn’t sight-read, I might not have succeeded again. And I learned to like this band director (sort of).
The Sound of Music
In the 11th grade, my high school band played a medley of songs from “The Sound of Music.” Near the end of the piece, I played a baritone solo (“The hills are alive…”). We had a concert at a local grammar school scheduled, but I was very sick that day and stayed home. There was another baritone player in the band, and she was a good player, but during the concert, she did not want to play the solo. During the medley, she handed the baritone part to the first chair trumpet player who usually sat next to me. Several bandmates told me he played it perfectly. The band director was shocked when a trumpet played the solo; he expected to hear a baritone. He didn’t know that I wasn’t there until then.
College Band
In my third year of college at Auburn University, I signed up for the university concert band. Then I learned that concert band members had to play in the pep band for a few basketball games every winter (there is a dedicated pep band now). I hadn’t been in the marching band and didn’t know the songs. Luckily, there was a disorganized music library, and I gathered a mix of baritone, trombone, and tenor sax parts. In the 1975 Auburn-Alabama basketball game (Auburn 76, Alabama 70), I was playing in the pep band, which was located just above a big entrance in the coliseum. It was maybe a twelve to fifteen-foot drop to the concrete floor. During a song, I played something the director didn’t like (imagine that). He turned to see who played the awful sound, he lost his footing and nearly went over the rail to the concrete below. He and I weren’t best friends, but I didn’t want to kill the man.
Later that year, I played in Jordan-Hare Stadium for the spring football game. We didn’t perform a half-time show, but I did march in and out of the stadium. That was nearly the end of the baritone for me.
I am eligible to play with the Auburn University Alumni Band at the annual homecoming football game. However, the Alumni Band often sits facing the sun in Jordan-Hare Stadium. I have season football tickets every year, and my seats are usually in the shade, not facing the sun.
Rocket Scientists
In my mid-40s, I wound up at a party of NASA engineers near Huntsville, Alabama. I was one of the few sober people there. Whenever I hear of a NASA rocket blowing up, or a satellite not working or a Mars rover acting weird, I think of this party. Eventually, someone brought out a baritone, and none of them could play it. They tried, and it was terrible. Finally, I took the horn, washed the filthy mouthpiece, and started playing some scales and exercises. The drunken rocket scientists were impressed and loved my mediocre playing. Then they started drinking anew. Maybe you had to be there.
Bollywood Brass
In my mid-50s, I found an online company from India that sold brass instruments for very reasonable prices. Trumpet prices were about $100; baritones were maybe $200, and so on. I considered buying one of these baritones, but my inner voice told me not to do it. I spoke with a local music teacher later, and he was adamant that these were junky instruments that sounded bad and fell apart quickly.
The End?
Now and then, I’ll see a used baritone for sale online nearby. I might buy one someday, maybe not. Every minute I practice on the horn is a minute I could be practicing guitar or working on this blog. Maybe if the Auburn University Alumni Band ever moves to the shade, I’ll get a baritone and start practicing. It could happen.