One way of looking at my childhood: everything I tried, touched, and learned depended on the way my daily life orbited my sister. In fourth grade, I began playing the cornet, because Cheri loved Herb Alpert and a certain senior boy. Why not a trumpet? Probably a decision was made when Mr. Runzo saw my pudgy lips. I will never know.
Probably something sexist. A girl should only play a cornet?
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I’m not sure what pudgy lips are, but I’ll bet at a certain age they turned into sexy lips.
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I love it. And Tijuana Brass.
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