Musical moments.

I like my music. I can't envisage a day without music. I can play a bit. Not much, a bit.
Over the years I've played guitar, violin, piano, sax, clarinet... None of them to a performance standard, but well enough to amuse myself, and occasionally to play with friends well enough to amuse ourselves.

But one particular session sticks in my mind.

I was about 12, I think. It was a Saturday, I think, or possibly a day in the holidays. Mum and siblings were out somewhere. I was in my room. My Dad was in the house somewhere.
Then, rather suddenly, he knocked on my door and came in.
"I'm going to make some music, and I need you to give me a hand" He said, and vanished off down the stairs. He's a bit bi-polar and this was one of his manic times. That said, he's a better player of music than I am.
So with a little trepidation I headed down to see him - I am very shy inside and get very scared about looking silly, and Dad is not above making people look silly for a laugh. There are some things he did to me for amusement that I still cringe at even now thirty or more years later.
I went into the living room to see what he had in mind, and looking around I immediately noticed that his guitar wasn't in the room.
"Errr... What...?" I sort of said.
"We're making 'Experimental' music!!" He said, gleefully.
My blank expression must have been a picture.
"We'll be making music from the stuff in the room!"
I guess I still looked blank.
"You can make music from ANYTHING! Anything at all!! We're going to improvise and record it."
He pointed at the stuff on the table. There was a whole load of stuff spread out. Tea things like a pot, cup, a strainer, its stand, and also there were books, rulers, combs and brushes and my mum's rollers, scissors, and so on and so on...Other than being household items, the thing they had in common was that they could make a distinctive noise.
I was still a bit skeptical, but thought, ah well - might as well!
"Ready?" He said, finger poised over the record button on the early 80's ghetto blaster.
I nodded, and he pressed the button.
He moved quietly over to the table and picked something and stared making a noise with it.
I don't remember exactly what I did but I remember running a comb over the end of the a ruler and using a teaspoon to drum a crescendo on a tiny, stainless steel bowl that rang like a bell.
We spent 15 minutes making rhythmic, percussive music.
Then we listened to it back and agreed it was great.

I found it years later.
I'm not sure it would have given Stravinsky pause for thought, but it still sounded good.

Its still one of my best days.