Music And That...

Much to the consternation of my whole family, music instruments cover the floor of my bedroom.

That sentence would normally be associated with a musical prodigy, someone who is capable of picking up an instrument and playing Flight of the Bumblebee at a break-neck speed.

I’m not that person. It’s a shame really because it would be a great talking piece at parties.

The musical instruments that are the foundations for my bedroom are a triangle, a ukulele, a drum kit, a bass guitar, and electric guitar, an electro acoustic guitar, an acoustic guitar, a recorder, a balalaika and a kazoo. I play about three of those instruments.

I had learnt to play the drums at my school. I had lessons there for a few years then decided to stop as I felt that my teacher had been convicted of something. It later transpired that he just had a funny look in his eye…

I’ve had a ukulele for about 2 months now. I’m getting there. I made a definitive proclamation when I got it that I wouldn’t stop playing until I could play Indigo by Tom Milsom. There was really nothing definitive about that proclamation…

The rest of the instruments aren’t mine but are being kept in my room until some time in the unforeseeable future.

The other day I was in Huddersfield for a rugby thing. I can’t stand rugby, and I refuse to believe that it is fun or exciting. I was bored out of my small skull.

I’m short. It’s very obvious that I am short. If you ever meet a group of people and I’m in it, I will be the short one. No doubt about that! But sometimes when I meet new people, something which I have a certain disinterest in doing, they assume that I am about 12. This, frankly, pisses me off.

In Huddersfield, a man asked me how old I was to which I responded ‘I’m 16!’ a response he was surprised by.

‘You look about 12!’ he said with the most patronising voice you could imagine.

‘I may look 12 on the outside, but mentally, I’m much older than 16. Academically, I’m much older than 16. Physically, I look about 12. Look is the operative word in this sentence of gloom and misery for me. For all you know, I could have a growing disorder. I could have a disorder and you would have insulted me, making me feel much worse than I usually feel about my height or lack thereof. You’re recalcitrance annoys me.’ I left him on that note. About a minute later I saw him looking confused. I was hoping to myself that he was trying to figure out what recalcitrance was.

My parents have always told me, stand up for yourself. With my bullying problems being a recent shadow gone by in my life, I get emotional when people mention things like my height, and the only way I can stop myself from bursting into tears is to just shout.

A bonus of this is that if I feel insulted, my parents let me argue with the person who may or may not have insulted me.

Which is nice...

See you in the future

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