When I first moved to Burnsville, I was ecstatic to be playing my trumpet in band again. There's just something about the trumpet always being the main focus in music that just draws my attention. (Though I have no clue why!) But things changed a lot when I started marching band for my third season. My eccentric and flannel-loving band teacher Mr. French (No, he doesn't teach French) asked me to play the baritone. Yes, I said "the what?" like you just did. Just so I can continue, I will tell you that a baritone is like a baby tuba. In fact, my baritone earned the nickname of Baby Bertha. But again, I must stay on topic! When marching band was over, I continued to play it in symphonic band. I soon learned that the baritone is not always the center of attention, so it's not going to work out. Yes, I must sadly say goodbye to Baby Bertha, as only my trumpet will be making the journey to Honduras. Even though this severly limits my polka playing oppurtunities, I am excited to be the center of attention again! Now I just need a witty name for my trumpet...
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