his name is Oscar

Today is my cello birthday. I had my first lesson a year ago today. It's also the day before my dad's birthday, so it will be easy to remember. (And we're glad Dad's still around to have birthdays thanks to open-heart surgery nearly ten years ago.)

Anyway, I've had this new-to-me cello for about a month now. I definitely picked a winner. I play this one far more than I played my rental cello. It's amazing how the quality of something can make you want to use it more, or conversely, can very nearly make you go off it. Simply put, I make a better sound on this one, which is starting to improve my confidence. In fact, I play it so much lately, that the cats have taken to sitting near it as the time approaches for my evening practice. They are very into routine.

It's certainly a louder cello than the rental I was using. I got a new mute for it - the heaviest and most expensive I've come across. I'm hoping it makes my daily practicing more bearable for the neighbors. I got the mute from cellos2go.com, and I'm impressed with their service. Nice people.

And I think my cello teacher has a bit of cello envy. Every lesson, he says, " that's such a nice cello" or "that's really a beautiful cello." That's saying something considering that his cello is a professional-level one, custom made for him and likely costing at least three or four times what I paid for mine. He also gets a kick out of my minty green cello case. He says it has "personality." I'm not sure what sort of personality minty green reflects, but there it is.

My cello's name is probably not a surprise to people who know me, and know my interest in the writings of Oscar Wilde, which started in 9th grade English class after reading The Importance of Being Earnest. As I recall, there were only a few of us in the class who thought the play was funny. (BTW, I think the Colin Firth/Rupert Everett film version is hilarious. It's one of my go-to films, along with Bringing Up Baby and What's Up, Doc?, when I need cheering up.)

Oscar feels like an appropriate name because the original was always looking for beauty and perfection in art and in life, but he tempered it with a sense of humor. Consistently good intonation and rhythm still eludes me, even after a year, but I expected that - the cello is a damn hard instrument to learn to play, and I accept that it will take me the rest of my life to learn to play it well. However, even as frustration at trying to get better builds up, the process of learning and practice is still satisfying, and there are those moments when bad-sounding cello is funny. I suspect that the longer I play, the more I will need that reminder.