Ms. Ellen

In the 4th grade, after years of begging on my part, my parents let me join the school music program. I don't know how good of a program it was, because you had to take private lessons to be in it. I chose to play the flute, because everyone else was choosing the violin, and fuck everybody. I copy no one but the very cool. And flautists, apparently.

My private teacher, Ms. Ellen, had a little office with ugly soundproof wall tiles but a really neat-o metronome on her piano. We'd practice notes, which I was not good at remembering the finger positions for. We'd practice reading sheet music, which I was not good at remembering the notes on. We'd practice my mouth shape and tone, which I was not good at.

At the end of the school year or whatever, Ms. Ellen, the private music teacher made a recommendation. She recommended that I get a new private music teacher.