One of "Those" Days...

  From the time I woke up this morning it's just been one of those days. You know which ones I'm talking about, the ones where nothing really seems to work out for you. When I first took my horn out the third valve stuck at the bottom of it's rotation. I didn't want bad wear to happen so I was very careful and made sure to oil everything again... still stuck. The kicker to this problem is that our wind symphony's first concert is this Friday.

  I began by emailing my conductor and professor to let them know about the problem. I was hoping my professor would know someone who could take a quick look at it and maybe even have time to fix it. If that wouldn't work out I also know that he has an extra Conn 8D from his college days that I'd be able to borrow if worst came to worst. I also let my conductor know so she wouldn't be as surprised if she heard some funky G#'s and C#'s.
  Luckily, my professor referred me to one of the member of our horn studio for the repair since he had spent a couple of years working at a repair shop. He couldn't meet me until tomorrow so until then I'd have to learn some alternate fingerings for rehearsal today. I spent about 20 minutes learning the sections that had problems with fingerings and worked to make them as in tune as possible.


  After all this ruckus I thought I'd attempt to oil my horn one more time to see if that would fix anything. It didn't do anything until I took off the valve cap and tried to compress the lever. Wahlah! It moved smooth and fast like new. I then washed the valve cap out and put it back on slowly, making sure the rotor was still working. In the end, after all that work, everything ended up working out just fine and I had to email everyone back saying not to worry about it and that everything was good again.


  Epilogue: If you're curious where that dust (or sand) probably came from, well what if I told you some friends and I had great day at the beach of Lake Michigan a few days prior. After all this trouble, the lesson I've learned is to really keep track of where all the sand that comes back with me ends up. Preferably not in my horn.