The harmonica is easy to vacuum under, but you probably aren’t supposed to consider that factor when choosing a musical instrument. I do consider it, however. I’m the one who has to do the vacuuming. Vacuuming under a piano isn’t too difficult, but it’s easier to tote around a harmonica in your pocket.
Actually playing the harmonica seems relatively easy. Breathe in, breathe out, make a pretty sound. Try that with a trumpet. Try it with a piano. Ha.
I was inspired to learn harmonica after reading over and over about other people’s Fun With Musical Instruments. I knew it wasn’t practical to buy a trombone or a harp and I’ve tried drums. Playing the drum solo from Wipeout by The Ventures was on my bucket list, and I used to beat on upturned buckets to prove it. I still do that. I have Fun with Housecleaning.
I really wanted to play the trumpet, and my mom was supportive about it. She said, “Go try and actually blow one. You’ll change your mind.” At least it would have kept my cheeks in top condition.
The drum lesson was interesting and I would love to be the kick ass old lady who can play them, but I don’t think it’ll happen in this lifetime. I’ll have to be content with tapping on the table with chopsticks when we go to a Chinese restaurant. My reward shall be getting to eat Chinese.
I ordered a harmonica from Amazon. It came in a little box, with a little book, and a regular size CD. A learner size of everything. The harmonica itself is just double the size of a Hallowe’en trick or treat candy bar.
The numbers on it are so small, you have to be five years old to see them. I suspect that this particular harmonica learning kit is for a five year old, ergo, it’s just right for me.
I guess some harmonicas are the size of Cleveland, but this one is small. Not so small I might accidentally swallow it, though. Thank goodness. I’ve swallowed my gum breathing in too quickly, so a harmonica would be worse.
The MOTH (Man of the House) saw this box full of harmonica, and requested only that I learn and practice when I’m alone. I could get down with that. Literally. That’s how musical people talk.
But when I tried it alone, I forgot I’m never really alone.
Sugar, my dog, jumped up on the sofa, and acted out her part of music critic by trying to take my little toy away. She refused to let me blow in and out on my mouth harp in peace.
I’m going to learn this thing, even if I have to build a sound proof room to do it. Sugar can go in there and wait.