That’s the sound of a sad trombone, and I’m sorry to say that I have a very sad trombone on my hands.
My wonderful parents bought me this trombone very cheaply when I was 12. It’s a 1983 Conn, and never looked like much, but it makes a beautiful sound.
Over the years I’ve come to know my trombone quite well. I learnt quite recently that it doesn’t like flying.
It came off the plane bent and dented with a broken spit valve. Not in a way that only musicians would notice, but in a way that even people who have never seen a trombone in their life notice.
Things got worse when I found a crack in the bell the other day. Thank goodness for duct tape.
It still has a few more flights to go. I hope it makes it.
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