19:57 - August 27, 2002
the blues
So music theory has me well fucked. I�m not sure what these other students are on but they can rattle off the number of sharps in the key signature G sharp minor and the like as if there�s no tomorrow. Ben, unavoidably in this class as well, (we saw each other and shouted simultaneously, �are you stalking me??�), rattled it right in my ear. �Um, a lot?� I answered, when asked. �Gimme a piano and I�ll tell you.� C flat? Us laypersons like to refer to those simply as B�s. I think the only people who don�t are theory professors, and the kids in my class.

My aural skills teacher seems to take it as a personal insult that I�ve got perfect pitch. He started class off by striding over to the piano and slamming an index finger down at random. �Right!� he boomed. �Who can tell me what note this is?�

The room was dead silent so I half raised a half hand and went �F sharp.�

He looked at me like I�d smacked him in the face with a blueberry pie. The class took that as me getting if wrong and started shouting out guesses. �G? C#? Bb?�

�It is INDEED an F sharp,� he said, �and Western music today, some people say that it is what�s WRONG with Western music today, dictates that we must recognize sounds in relation to other sounds, not just from some secret lair in the head, SO! You� are going to have a hard time, young lady. Piano player, I presume. Haven�t read a note in your life, have you? Never had to because you could always hear it, couldn�t you? Huh. What�s this note?�

�B�

�And this?�

�E flat.� After the first one it�s easy; it�s just intervals.

�Huh,� he grunted. �You�re lucky I�m doing this on the piano. If I were to do it on, say, a trumpet, you wouldn�t be able to. It�s a different sound. You�d be as lost as everyone else.�

I could see that telling him trumpet was my second instrument would be irrelevant at least, pompous at best, and the class was starting to look just as pissed. So I kept my mouth shut and took notes.

But I giggled all the way home.

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