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Posts Tagged ‘magic moments on Blogfinger’

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Rutherford High School  (NJ) Yearbook  1959. The dancer at the lower left corner was another failed magic moment for me.  RHS Dance Band on top. I am third sax from the left.

The gorilla suits were my idea–to mock the hoods from Lyndhurst High. For those of  you who are wondering, we are missing our baritone sax player for the photo.  Yes, you are correct–a sax section has 5 players, with the baritone on the right side end.

 

When Magic Failed Me

By Paul Goldfinger, Editor @ Blogfinger.net

It begins at a very early age:  we teach children to imagine magic.  It’s in so many of the books for kids, so we can’t be surprised if they engage in magical thinking.

But even as adults, we still  have magical ideation to help us deal with the realities and challenges of the world around us.  We use such  thinking to see into the future and foresee perfect moments.

Such moments, even if the magic fails us, tend to stick in our minds.

I recall two such events from when I was about 17 years old , a student at Rutherford (NJ) High School:

The first took place on a chilly autumn day, on a muddy soccer field.  As a senior varsity player for the RHS Bulldogs, I desperately wanted to do something for the team and to justify their playing me at center forward.

I had never played soccer before that season and I won a starting position out of sheer good fortune—we barely had enough players to field a team and we were losing every game, and I wished for a magic moment.

It came in the second half.  Our goalie, Tim Krupa, was an amazing all-state player and he could kick the ball a mile. He sent one up the field—high and long, and I raced to catch up with it.   The ball bounced and bounced, with me trying to reach it.  I could hear the team yelling from the bench, and I really needed some magic.

It was I pursuing the ball, while the goalie prepared for our arrival.  It should have been a heroic moment, but just as I caught up with the ball, it bounced off my chest and lamely dribbled into the hands of the goalie.  Ignomy–not magic.

The second moment to remember was on the stage at Rutherford High School with the “dance band” –“The Rutherfordians.” I played lead alto sax.  My sound was good and I was competent at sight-reading music, but I had no idea how to improvise a solo, and nobody in the band was advanced enough for that.

We were rehearsing the “Theme from Peter Gunn”–a raucous tune to open our forthcoming show. The music reached a point where a sax solo was desirable, and the boys in the band were encouraging me to do it—“Come on Goldie; stand up and play  it.”  I demurred , knowing that I couldn’t do it, but they persisted, and I somehow envisioned a magic moment.  So I stood up and tried, but it wasn’t there, and I had to sit down—a major disappointment—another failure of magic.

But isn’t it funny how such moments stick with us and how, no matter how old we get, we still experience magic moments and we still retain them along with the accompanying  feelings that never diminish?

KENNY VANCE:

 

 

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