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Thursday, April 28, 2011

Franklin's gotten himself a bowed psaltery from Amazon dot com. This guy loves making music, is always seeking out new types of instruments. Mostly they've been percussion instruments, a selection of which he brings when he visits from California, so we can jam. I love doing this. It reminds me of when we used to sing together when he was a little kid. We made up the tune as we went along, trading melody and harmony, and we always sounded great (to my ears). It was a wordless communion, the sort of communion one can only have through music.

His father had a career as a professional oboist; the farthest he strayed from the oboe was the English horn, which is really not too far - an oboe is to an English horn as a piccolo to a flute. Just a matter of scale. I also played a musical instrument, the flute in fact, which is how come I know about that comparison. However, he and I were never able to jam. It might have been because he was conservatory educated and I was, well, not. Or it might have been because we weren't going to be harmonious on any level at that point in our lives, and music was just one more expression of that.

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