Thingies that happen to Steve in his other job

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Wed Mar 04, 2020 9:02 pm

One from yesterday that I forgot to tell you.

I joke about the lack of trembling and awe in my presence. Obviously I do not really want trembling. Awe I get anyhow.

Not from the younger kiddies. They lack the experience to even begin to understand how good I am. The older they get, the more they begin to understand the vast gulf in between them and myself. That creates a certain amount of awe.

Charlie often complains that he can play stuff well until he plays it to me, then he goes to bits. "It is the Steve effect," I once explained. "I have it on a lot of people. I do not want to; it just happens."

I believe him. He is improving wondrously and I am mightily proud of him. I say so at every lesson. Plus, I sympathise. Nobody has a greater regard for my piano playing than I do but ask me to play to a room full of world class virtuosi and I would go to pieces. Actually, I would go home.

Charlie was sat at the piano when I pitched up in 146 yesterday. "Ehup Sam," I intoned.

"Ehup Sir. Now that my name is Sam, your name is Andrew."

"Fair enough."

Miss just shook her head in despair at the pair of us and intervened to explain about the extra song accompaniment she had for me.

A few minutes passed and Sam announced, "I am going for lunch. What time is my lesson?"

"1.30. I wrote it in your lesson pass last week."

"I know you did, but was it the correct time?"

"Get it out and look at it. It says 1.30, OK?"

Full of doubt, Charlie/Sam grunged around in his pockets until he found the relevant pink pass, looked at it and announced in surprise, "Yes. 1.30 it is."

"Ha," I replied triumphantly. After all, I am not often proven to be correct. "Now go away and try not to come back at 1.30."

Fur Elise is light years away from what Sam could realistically be expected to play this time last year. He is mastering it for his solo performance next year. He is playing it in the concert in a couple of weeks time. We shall divert to a duet for his ensemble (remember 'ansembly?'

) after that so we do not reach the wrist-slashing stage over this blasted piece.

Fur Elise consists of a passage that anyone but Lois can play. This passage comes four times, interspersed by episodes that no one below professional standard can play without a lot of difficulty. Sam has mastered the first and third episodes, to an extent. The second episode causes him difficulties and he mucked it up when he played to me.

"I can play it really. It is the Andrew effect that makes me go wrong."

Not the worst crime in the world, unless you happen to be a piano teacher listening to it. Hey ho.

So I am Andrew from now on. It never occurred to me to ask why 'Andrew'.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Sat Mar 07, 2020 8:29 pm

I spent much of this afternoon working on the songs that Miss wants me to accompany in a couple of weeks time. There is nothing technically difficult about playing them but the rhythms cause me difficulty until I have worked them out.

It is a good thing that she gave me the parts in advance of our first rehearsal this coming Tuesday. I had no chance of sight-reading them and would have looked a complete nit. Again.

Some stories from Thursday.

I arrived for Charlie's lesson at 1.10. "Ehup Sam," I offered. "Ehup Andrew," came the response.

We were beavering away when he asked, "Are we doing my lesson now, or have we started early and will carry on through my lesson?"

With a sinking heart, I tried, "This is your lesson. It is always your lesson. I keep on telling you that your Thursday lesson is at the fixed time of 1.10." I knew it was a hopeless attempt.

"You wrote 1.30 in my lesson pass."

"No I didn't."

Charlie sighed patiently reached into a pocket, dug out the music pass, handed it to me and said, "See? 1.30 is what it says."

I took the pass, got hold of my rubber, rubbed out where I had pencilled in 1.30 and replaced it with 1.10."

"No it doesn't. Now stop whinging and get on with what you are supposed to be doing."

Charlie gave me that smile, pocketed the pass and did indeed get on with what he was supposed to be doing. This was writing guidance down for a piece he is going to play with guitarist Jeremy in a competition in a few weeks time.

Never mind the details. With said guidance, Charlie is capable of sorting this stuff out for himself. I was repeating the exercise I did with him three weeks ago because, "I gave the part to Miss and she lost it." I ignored that, temporarily.

We finished and I announced, "I will go and photocopy this now and keep the copy for myself. That way, I can furnish you with a copy the next time you lose yours."

He tried again. "I gave it to Miss and she lost it." I was not letting him get away with it a second time. I replied, "Charlie, you and I both know that the only individual in this department even less organised than Me and Miss, is you. Stop trying to blame others for your failings."

He did not argue. He has a history of losing piano parts, after all.

I had a victim missing due to having an exam so I made use of the time to do some photocopying. My next victim was Julia, so I was passing time until she turned up. I wandered back to 146. Mr P's door was open. There was a tot sat in the room and another tot standing in the doorway.

Sitting tot and standing tot are besties. There was a lot of laughter coming from the room and I always want to be involved in that. I leaned against the door jamb and asked over their heads, "Are these children giving you trouble?"

"Yes," came the instant reply. "They are being annoying." <round mouthed looks of mock shock>

"Shall I give them both a detention?"

"Yes please."

"Oy."

Sitting tot gestured to me with her thumb and asked Mr P, "Who is this?"

Mr P replied, "This is Mr Hopwood. He hates children."

I felt a tug at my elbow at that point. It turns out that Julia instantly bought into the "Mr Softie Steve" concept last week, because she smiled confidently up at me and asked, "You wouldn't give me a detention, would you?" She must have been standing there for a while.

"Of course not darling. I like you."

It took a couple of seconds before the implication of that statement dawned upon The Tots then, "Oy," accompanied by more round mouthed expressions of mock shock. These angels might not know who I am but they are getting to know my sense of humour.

Julia and I wandered into 146 for her lesson. She announced, "I have done some homework." "Wonderful," I replied, assuming that meant she had done some practice.

It turned out that she had indeed done some practise and played perfectly. What she actually meant was that she had photocopied the pieces, stuck them into her class music homework book, pencilled in the letter names of all the notes and written a paragraph about what she had learned in her first lesson. I will make sure Julia receives a commendation for that.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Mon Mar 09, 2020 9:18 pm

A story from Friday. You may not understand all of it if you have never played a musical instrument but here is the context; the child in question asked about the most gormless question imaginable. All teachers everywhere have experience of this sort of thingy in their own sphere. For non-teachers, we are talking, "How do I spell the letter 'a'?" here.

G is always tired when he comes for his piano lesson. It is the end of a long week at the best of times, and last week was full of 'mock' exams in preparation for the real events in only a few weeks time. Stress levels are through the roof. Practise time is zero. I have told him not to worry and that we will catch up over the summer. I just try to give him a happy hour for the time being, without any pressure. This perhaps explains why he was so thoughtless on Friday.

He has just taken a grade 6 music theory exam. The knowledge required to take this exam is roughly that of students at the end of their first year of 'A' level music study and so is well in advance of where his theoretical knowledge is now. He is doing rather well.

G pointed to an accidental played by his right hand - a lower auxiliary G sharp - and asked, "Does that G sharp mean that the G in the left hand is also sharp?"

I boggled at him in mock amazement and asked, "Pardon?"

He repeated the question.

I said, "You have been playing the violin and the piano for roughly 10 years each. You have just sat G6 theory and are about to complete your GCSE music exams. Are you claiming that you do not know whether an accidental in one clef (i.e. hand) is applied to notes in another?" <it is not>

"Yes."

I turned to the wall and said, "Hello wall. I am going to talk to you for a bit. Apart from me, you are clearly the most intelligent entity in this room," and waited.

G eventually realised that his monumental intellect was parked somewhere in the lane and set about retrieving it. A few seconds passed before his face cleared as faces do when understanding dawns. A few more seconds passed and then his face turned to dismay as faces do when the owner of the face realises what a clot he has been.

Sadly, I know the feeling only too well.

He said plaintively, "I cannot believe I asked that question. Please shoot me now."

Not having a gun handy, I offered to slit his throat instead. The poor lad accepted with alacrity but I decided that murder was perhaps a tad on the extreme side of thingies and offered sympathy instead.

"Never mind G," I said. "You are tired, very tired. We all say idiotic thingies when tired. I do, all the time."

G always recovers quickly. He grinned wickedly at me and replied, "I know. You talk to walls." G 1: Steve 0.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Tue Mar 10, 2020 9:29 pm

I had a lovely afternoon in school. Miss had arranged for the five singers to come to me for rehearsals for the concert next week.

They were supposed to come separately but the first three know each other and turned up in a group. They were joined soon after by the other two. Three are singing solos whilst the other two are singing a duet.

Miss asked me to accompany the girls because she wants to wean them off 'backing tracks'. These tracks have their uses but their huge downside is in not allowing the singer to impart her own interpretation. It is the backing track's way or no way at all.

I worked with Lola first of all. A bright, bouncy number from the musical "Wicked", was getting slower and slower. It dawned on me what the problem was. I was waiting for Lola. Lola is used to the backing track dictating events and was waiting for me. We could have been there for a long time.

Things were fine after I explained that Lola was in control and to sing it entirely in her own way. Granted, "her own way" was the way she had heard the song performed on Youtube as she learned it, but I had listened to the same recording and so knew what she was going to do.

A group of kids in this sort of event become wildly supportive of one another. Each run through a song was greeted with cheers. We did a sort of round-robin with each of the girls singing in turn.

We were only supposed to spend an hour. Instead, we took up the full two hours of the afternoon. Why not? They were happy. I was happy, so I decided not to break up the party. Besides, the more often the girls sang, the more confident they became.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Thu Mar 12, 2020 9:03 pm

The rich vein of lunacy continues.

One from yesterday that I forgot to tell you. I needed the loo and so told the girls to take a break for a couple of minutes. One of them took the opportunity to scuttle off as well.

They had loaded up some vocal warm ups on their phones and were practising them when I arrived back. Singers' warm ups sound peculiar unless you are used to them. I am, but could not refuse a tease.

"Singers have to do the strangest thingies," I announced.

Came the misunderstanding cries of, "Oy" and the usual round mouthed expressions of mock shock.

"No angels, I am not saying you are strange, just that you have to do strange thingies."

"Oh, OK. That is alright then."

"Mind, you lot are strange."

"Oy," etc.

I had Lexie booked in again for a session on Tuesday to cover the Music Knowledge section of her upcoming G3 guitar exam. The first one was scuppered when the school suddenly filled up my timetable.

Tuesday was scuppered by Miss booking me in for rehearsals with the singers, so I rearranged Lexie for today.

With Little Sweetie Sarah booked in for 12.50 and Sam for 1.10 today, I still managed somehow to conclude that I could spend 45 minutes with Lexie if she came to me at 1.00. We duly arranged this.

The folly of this arrangement dawned on me as I drove to school. "!!"^^&&&" I intoned.

I explained this to Mr P and said I would rearrange something with Lexie when she came to me. He was to bring her to me if she came to him first.

I took LSS off to The Dungeon so that all the kiddies in 146 could carry on their parties undisturbed and Miss could carry on in 149. Come 1.00 and Lexie and Mr P appeared in the doorway.

I said to Lexie, "Darling, I am an idiot. You know this. We have had dealings. My idiocy is well known to you." She giggled. So did LSS behind me.

I explained my mistake and said, "Sorry poppet. I have to be one of the worst organised people on the planet. My excuse is that if God wanted me to be organised, then She would not have made me a musician. I would have been down in Admin"

More giggles from both girls.

I said, "We are going to get together tomorrow, sweetheart. I am making a special trip just to spend the time with you. That is an arrangement that even I cannot muck up. Come and find me at 1.30."

"Yes Sir."

Mr P knows that it is a bit of a trek for me to get there, so he said, "You don't need to do that."

My brain came out with this slightly convoluted answer. "Yes I do. I am 68. I am in excellent health and anticipate a fair few more years of child bothering. Even so, I am conscious that the certainties of me being here tomorrow are a lot less than they were 40 years ago. In the time I have left, it will take the Fires of Hell getting in between me and any child to stop me doing the very best I can for said child."

My gob said, "Yes I can."

"Lexie. You and me, here tomorrow at 1.30. The only thing that will stop this is my car breaking down, or either of us contracting Corona. Now go away. I am busy."

They both toddled off, giggling. <much later edit. We managed the extra session but that was it after the UK went into lockdown. No doubt the exam was cancelled. Nothing in our existence trumps keeping kids safe.>

LSS's lesson was her extra because of finding herself in that music class that she already did last term. She returned last thingy in the afternoon for her timetabled lesson. We were still in The Dungeon with the door open. A Passing Small Boy looked in and asked, "Can I play you 'Happy birthday to you?"

"Of course. Come in. Feel free."

He came in, played Happy Birthday, wrongly, and skipped off with, "Thank you Sir."

LSS and I boggled at each other in amazement. "Did that really just happen?" I asked. "Yes," she replied. "Didn't he play it all wrong as well?" "Yes." Her shoulder shrug was the equivalent of my, "Hey ho".

I am not intellectually gifted. OK, so I m not a moron but I would not set the world alight with my understanding of nuclear physics. I could not do a PhD in Ancient Sanskrit. I could not even run a school. I might manage a toilet. On a good day. I am in awe of those who are intellectually gifted.

I am especially in awe of children whose intellect make me feel like a lump. LSS would come close to being one such if she did not so often park her brains in the corridor en route to her lesson.

Julia clearly is one of those children. Her instant understanding of information is a wonder to experience. I have mentioned before that she is tiny.

Tiny and clever people are at risk of being bullied because they are different from the rest. They often develop a sense of humour that makes everyone laugh - and with them, not at them. Julia is one of these. Billy was too. He has grown to a decent height these days so there is no longer any danger to him. Julia will as well.

Julia was learning a new piece today, and taking it all in her stride except for one small jump that she kept on getting wrong. After getting it wrong again she sighed, "Wrong again. I am sooooooo screwed."

Happy times for me.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Sat Mar 14, 2020 9:57 pm

One from Thursday that I forgot to write.

Mr P's room is next door to 146. It is a little bigger than The Dungeon, but not a lot so his door is always open whilst he is teaching, just as I leave my Dungeons' door when forced to inhabit it by a cruel and uncaring world.

I had been to the photocopier and was wandering back to 146 when I heard gales of laughter coming from his room. I was attracted to that as is a moth to a light bulb. I leaned on the door jamb to be greeted by the two little besties of recent fame. One was putting her guitar away having finished her lesson. The other had already got her guitar out in preparation but was drawing on the board with a felt pen.

The Bestie putting her guitar away asked, "Have you ruffled Sir's hair?"

That is a question I have never been asked before. "No darling," I replied. "I would possibly get arrested if I went around ruffling peoples' hair. I would definitely get sacked."

"It is all soft and fluffy."

"I don't care."

The Bestie drawing on the board announced, "I am drawing Sir."

I looked at the drawing and said. "The hair looks good."

A bit more drawing. "Sir does not wear a skirt."

A bit more drawing. "Sir does not have wings."

A bit more drawing and one of those cartoon speech bubbles appeared with, "Cheep cheep" as the caption. Mr P intoned, "And I am definitely not a bird."

I looked at all three of them, one after another and said, "Bonkers, the lot of you," and left them to it.

A few more gales of laughter and then the sound of guitar playing. As I have occasionally remarked before, we do teach the kids something, sometimes.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Wed Apr 01, 2020 12:34 am

Our world has locked down since I wrote my last post here.

I have no idea when I shall be posting here again. I am missing the kids desperately. I can sit back and visualise every one of them and weep for missing them.

The only alternative to missing them for now is inconsolably worse. I am certain that loving parents are keeping them safe.

So, to parents reading here and keeping the most precious people on the planet safe ---

You hardly need me to say this but I will reiterate it anyhow: stop at nothing to keep your kids safe.

This dreadful time will pass. Teen lunacy will return.

We all look forward to it.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Sat Apr 11, 2020 8:09 pm

This thread is about the lunatic thingies that kids get up to. There will be many such posts in the future.

For now, I have news that has left me desolate.

The head of performing arts at school phoned earlier with the news that Mr P died last night, of the virus.

Paul was in poor health and had been for several years. He had been in hospital for a couple of weeks, so the lock down probably came about a week too late for him to go into total isolation. He would have picked up the virus in that final week before schools were closed.

I have never met a kinder teacher than Paul. Aim a child at him and tell it to ask him to help and the word, "No" ceased to exist in his universe. Kids all over the school adored him - including many that he did not teach.

The world lost a very special human being last night. Will the school find another guitar teacher to replace him? Yes. Will said teacher be the likes of Paul? Dream on.

Considering the ramifications of Paul's death tonight has been horrifying. The number of kids whose hearts will be broken is dreadful to contemplate. I have been in tears for much of that time.

Folks, when your child come into contact with an exceptional teacher, then treasure her/him. They are rare, exceptional creatures who should be worshipped.

RIP Paul. I will never forget you.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Sun Apr 12, 2020 11:44 pm

We all need some hope right now. For sure, I bloody well do.

I have already given private piano lessons via skype. Today I asked our school's head of performing arts to provide me with contact details for Little Sweetie Sarah and Sam-who-thinks-his-name-is-Charlie, so I can initiate lessons with them. Paul would have expected nothing less from me. There is nothing I can do for the little ones who suddenly filled up my timetable last Feb; they were reliant on using the pianos at school until they had obtained their own instruments and these have not arrived yet.

I came across a former victim a couple of weeks ago. Kids come into my life and illuminate it for a few years, then exit. I would love to keep in touch with all of them but it is not possible. I am left with fond memories. Here is one of them, with a lovely follow up.

About 13 years ago I was travelling around the villages around Gainsborough giving piano lessons. There are stories about these early on in this thread.

One house I visited had the most wonderful group of four sisters that even someone as lucky as me could possibly wish to meet. Aged 6, Antonia was priceless. Gappy toothed. Huge smile. All the confidence of the much loved youngest of a group of much loved children. She wanted the piano lessons I was providing for her older sisters.

I do not like taking on kids younger than 7. They are such hard work; lots of caveats in that last statement, but I am not going into them here. It is not the point of this post.

With her parents' agreement, I told Ant that I could not teach her until she was 7.

Which was fine until she reached 7. Then she confronted me and demanded ferociously, "I am 7 now and want my piano lessons."

I still had a really tight timetable but worked out that I could pick up the older girls after school so they did not need to catch the school bus and free up sufficient time to teach Ant. I did not have a lot of options left, after all.

This arrangement continued for several years. I rather enjoyed picking up the kids from school - who doesn't? The older girls gradually moved on to university. The family moved away at the same time I started teaching the piano in schools and I lost touch with them apart from the occasional glimpses on Facebook and the like. They all appear to be thriving and I am grateful for that. They are wonderful girls - young women I suppose now.

I came across a blog recently. It was one of those, "Do you know this person" thingies that I usually ignore. Maybe I should start taking more notice. The name involved was Antonia and it stirred a memory so I took a look.

It is my Ant. By my calculation, she is c. 19 now. Pretty as a picture and clearly a successful model. View her youtube video at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DC-qB7kJUO0

I do not know whether you will find it as endearing as I do. Perhaps it entrances me only because I knew this wonderful young lady as a tiny child. I can say she has not changed much. Her facial expressions are the same as all those years ago. Her insecurities are the same as hers and all her sisters were back then. Wondering if being 20 minutes early for a photo shoot is rude? Finding her foundation makeup underneath a pile of clothes on her bedroom floor? Wondering if it is only her being desperate for a pee and leaving it until she simply has to go before doing something about it? <probably> Standard 19 year old, I think.

You will see a cute c. 14 year old boy at the end of the video. This amazing family had adopted him just as I came to the end of my association with them. He was a child with zero future until they picked him up at the end of an unnecessarily tortuous adoption process. Looks like he is doing OK these days.

Life is shit right now folks. It will not always be so. I will continue to offer wonderful stories whenever I can. Being a music teacher leaves me in pole position to be able to do so.

Post by **SteveHopwood** » Thu May 07, 2020 8:45 pm

Events here that I can report are going to be rare for a while. I am giving some piano lessons via Skype, but not many and the lack of immediate interaction makes it hard for the usual range of humour to emerge.

What I am about to describe is not directly relate to my teaching. It is a happy interaction with some very special human beings, so enjoy.

------------

It has been a lovely day here today. Tonight was perfect as I took advantage and went for a stroll.

Dougie was stood at the end of our lane as it junctions with the road. I have described how Mr P would have been the one waving towards us as he made his way back from the North Pole as we hiked towards it. Mr P knew everyone.

Dougie knows everyone else and the only reason he has not featured here is that there was no need for him to do so. Facts is though, that the guy standing next to Mr P and waving equally enthusiastically, would have been Dougie.

16 years ago, those along our lane enjoyed news of the birth of his daughter, Jessica.

We have enjoyed her exploits ever since.

There was the wonderful occasion about 6 years ago, that she and a friend piled up loads of apples that had fallen from a tree at the top of the lane. By the time anyone reaches my house, cars can pass each other in opposite directions. At the top of the lane, it is strictly one car at a time.

I pulled onto the lane from the road and met the heap of apples and two highly expectant little girls. I got out of the car and said, "Ehup Angels. What are you doing?"

Rural village children tend to be trusting so they knew they were not in trouble. Jess replied confidently, "We want to see what happens when a lot of apples get crushed."

"Fair enough" I replied. I got back into the car and drove home. In my rear view mirror,I saw two little girls giving me the thumbs up.

The apples made a mess for several days following.

Jess is a keen runner. Dougie aka 'dad' was awaiting her return tonight. She was overdue. Parents, put yourselves in his shoes. I confess to joining him whilst intoning constantly, "She will be fine. Nothing can happen to her here". It is a safeplace to live, after all, and there is no one on the streets.

Even so, anxiety mounted. We waited about 10 minutes then she appeared around the corner over the bridge about 300 metres away. Huge sighs of relief and I resumed my stroll. I moved into the middle of the road to allow Jess to pass safely but could not resist a wind up. I called out to her, "HI sweetheart. Your dad has been frantically worried about you.Think of a tease, ok?"

"Will do."

"And stay safe, ok?"

"Will do. You too."

This wonderful young lady wants to join the RAF as a medic. Eventually, this will put her in harms way. I would prefer she stayed home and become an accountant.

Hey ho. We cannot live our kids' lives for them.