Good Reeds

There ought to be an app that keeps track of reeds. And it should be called Good Reeds.

There probably is. But maybe Goodreads told them to change their name.

I currently use a little notebook documenting the date I open new reeds, the amount of time in subsequent days I play them (usually five minutes), the temperature, and the humidity of each day I play on them as I break the reeds in. And I rate them on a scale from 1 to 5 according to how the feel as I play them. It usually takes about a week to break a reed in to my liking.

It’s been a decent system so far, and I’m currently using some real winners. But I’m also trying to be patient with what seem to be duds. And since I’ve learned how to sand duds into sounding better, I can’t say that very many reeds would go to waste.

I did purchase a synthetic reed today, Legère brand. Opened the package, placed the reed on the mouthpiece. It was immediately ready to go. And the strength of the reed felt really good. Great response and projection. One of those almost cost as much as a box of Vandoren V12s, 3.5 strength, but one of those should last as long as an entire box of bamboo reeds.

I tested the reed on my student clarinet. I can’t wait to get my intermediate clarinet back from the shop. I can’t believe it took a reed to get me extremely excited again about playing.


It rained today, giving some relief to the land after a pretty intense drought. We hope to get more rain throughout the summer. We hope more people are thinking about water conservation more than they are trying to keep their lawns green.

Because No One Knows How to Spell

No one’s going to get my response to a friend’s recent Facebook status.

Friend: Is it wrong that I want to put up my Christmas tree before I find our forks, knives, and spoons?

Me: The tree has to go up before the utinsels! Also, I love groaning and rolling my eyes at my own jokes.

And I just feel like I’m betraying myself to explain the wordplay between tinsel and utensils.

I’ve said too much already.

Bumpass, VA – Warning: Heavily Implied Profanity Ahead; Rated PG

So, I went to a Stake Institute FHE on Monday in the Union Square building basement.
A lot of people showed up. We mingled.
I saw one of my friends who is also doing the triathlon on Saturday.
She was standing with another good friend.
We got to talking about training.
And the town where the race is.
And we started making jokes about the town’s name.
And getting trucker hats as souvenirs.
“Bumpass! We’re going to Bumpass, yay!”
“Bum. Pass.”  “Bump. ***.”
Harmless enough. I’ve typed that before, without asterisks.
Then all of a sudden I blurted,
“We’re going to BUMP some ***!” (Those asterisks are capitalized, by the way.)
That turned out to be a LOT louder than I expected.
The friend who was standing with us started to giggle.
And blush. I covered my mouth and laughed.
I tried to pretend not one of the hundred-or-so surrounding people AT CHURCH heard me.
She pointed out that she was blushing, and I was blushing.
So we must really be 10-year old boys.
Which I’ve already admitted to.
Embarrassing. And hilarious.
I’ll be taking pictures on Saturday.
I don’t know about a trucker hat, though.
That’s just obscene.