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Jazz Addiction

Decent Essays
My parents were forced to drag me into the shower, kicking and screaming. It was the second week of sixth grade. I was introduced to the world of jazz by my middle school band teacher, Mr. Franco. At first, I was not a big fan. I thought that it was too chaotic and disorganized. When I first picked up the saxophone, I could barely play a simple scale, without causing my instrument to whine and wail in protest. My attempts at music consisted of mistakes and errors. As I tried to coax out a harmonious melody, the saxophone/notes screeched in anger. My fingers felt too large and clumsy. Although I was the not the best at playing, jazz became my addiction. I spent countless hours listening in a trance: eager to consume the works of the
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