Well, this is the perfect place to tell my particular relationship with the trumpet. I always loved the instrument - from three years onwards. I once, at age five, even got a toy trumpet, even made of brass!, with ten "valves", each of which was confined to one note. They don't make them any more... at any rate, I loved that thing, but it did not feel right. It had too many of these round things sticking up above the leadpipe. Proper trumpets had only three, I knew for certain. So one day I sneaked away into the basement with my grandpa's small metal saw, and started working... neatly sawed off seven of the ten "valves". So now it not only looked like a proper trumpet, you could actually grip it like a proper trumpet. I was intensely proud of this achievement and showed it to my parents who were unaccountably angry. They were talking about, "you're always ruining things" and when I said that I wanted to learn trumpet, they told me I would only break it like the toy trumpet... so I was thrown onto piano and violin (both were already in the house).
And I hated it. They soon realized I was hopeless with the violin, but kept my nose to the grindstone on piano. The local music school would not do, so every second day, they carted me to a neighbouring town for lessons with a very special, very old-school teacher: A spinster of about 69, complete with moustache, and a wooden ruler lying on the piano to whack a student's fingers with. For seven years they forced me into this kind of thing, and I became quite good at piano - out of sheer self-defence! - won a few local competitions... until I boldly told them that they could throw me out or beat me to death, but I would not go to that teacher again... They tried a different teacher for another year or two, but by this time I was refusing to practice so piano lessons ended, after nine years or so. And quite a few years later, at age 22, I won a trumpet in a raffle. Well, a bugle. No valves or anything, just a tube with a bell flare and something that could imaginatively be called a mouthpiece.
OK, I thought, this looks like fate. How do I get this thing to work? So I got out a Maurice André record cover - 1970 vinyl, in fact this album https://www.cdandlp.com/maurice-andre/l-extraordinaire-maurice-andre/33t/r118969818/ - retreated in front of the big bathroom mirror and looked closely at how Maurice's lips were shaped on the mouthpiece. Tried to emulate the shape, put some tension on and - - - toot! Since then, I styled myself "student of Maurice André". It became true about ten years later...
Next day, I went into the local music shop and bought myself a trumpet kit - Chinese "Comet", complete with 7C mouthpiece, cleaning set, wooden case and set of white gloves, for 99 Deutschmarks. Continued to work with "Maurice". After two days, asked my choir director to find me a trumpet teacher. Which he did. And only a week later, accompanied me to a specialist shop where I bought my first "proper" trumpet, a Bach Strad 229 C/Bb... new, for a whopping 2,999 Deutschmarks (we're talking 1988!). No stopping now...
