I’m working so hard and sounding so bad. There is no resonance to my tone no matter what I do: adjust the head joint, reposition my flute, relax my throat, pay attention to my embouchure. The thin, reedy sound in the upper register and airy resistance in the lower notes exasperate me.
Practice is going so badly I decide it is counterproductive. My throat hurts a bit, so maybe, I reason, inflammation is constricting my airflow. I take apart my flute. As I swab out the long middle section, something fluttering down to the table catches my eye. What is it? I pick up the two-inch-long cloth tag, black fuzz clinging to the back of it. “Knapp Music Co,” it proclaims, just as it always has—except it is supposed to be securely fastened in the case lining, not floating around inside my flute.
I start to laugh and put my flute back together. I resume practice, relieved that this time the problem was not me.
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