Tooting Our Own Horns

Growing up I definitely didn’t have a lot in common with my dad. At least in my eyes I didn’t. I liked sports. He could care less. He liked classical music and science fiction. I could care less. We had our similarities but they often drove us apart more than brought us together. Stuff like bad tempers and being stubborn pains in the ass weren’t exactly things we could bond over. Now that we’ve grown older and I stopped being an asshole (yes surprisingly as a teenager I was an asshole) we are very close. I’d consider my father a great man and one of my best friends. Keep in mind I also consider my ex wife one of my best friends so I’m not always normal. 
One thing my father did pass down to me was the ability to play a musical instrument. In addition to playing bass trombone in symphony orchestras my dad was a band teacher. In middle school he taught me saxophone and trumpet. He also kept me from ever touching a set of drumsticks. Not nice old man. I stopped playing in high school due to a poor band program but I still have a trumpet I can play a tune or two on. 
Now my son is eight years old. He’s active. He plays baseball and football. Always wants to do something new. He hunts often with my ex father in law and loves it. It’s great for him to have something to bond with his paw paw doing and he’s became quite a good little marksman. At times I was worried though that the same divide in interest that kept me distant from my father would keep my son from bonding with him. I mean the kid is his fathers son. Well not the asshole part but I guess there’s always time for him to perfect that. 
Recently my hopes for them finding something they can really bond doing came to light. My father is retired from teaching band in school but still teaches private lessons. One of his newest additions on his list of pupils is an eight year old boy that closely resembles his best looking offspring. Sorry to my sister Melinda but we’re  talking about me. Not only is my son getting these lessons from his extremely talented grandfather but he loves every minute of it. Surprisingly he does more than just make farting sounds through his trombone, which was an actual concern that the only reason he wanted a trombone was to do that. The kid is picking it up pretty quick. 

  
We all have our differences and that’s true with family.  My father and I couldn’t get it right when I was growing up. We frustrated each other so much that we couldn’t always see the likenesses. It made things difficult for us at times but thankfully over time we found that we could just embrace that and still get along as not just father and son but as real friends. Now that has made me look at things with my son. It’s taught me that he’s going to become his own man and even though we have differences I want to be supportive and close. Not just let those differences divide us. 
Seeing my dad and Coleman playing music together is one of the most touching things I’ve ever witnessed. He’s passed on what I’d consider a legacy in music. Not just being taught by a random person in school but a grandfathers craft being taught first hand to his grandson. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll be adding to that training him how to steer this old towboat. Not that I’d wish this life on him of being away from family but the thought of that does give me a sense of pride. I mean it’s either that or he wins a Heisman trophy before starting an NFL career that gets him Six Super Bowl rings (the first of which I’ll accept as a gift) and multiple league MVP awards. But no pressure though. 

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