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Tuba Lessons and Cold Air Intakes

When I was 6 years old, I started takingJust then, I noticed my teacher's
tuba lessons. Not by choice of course.Lamborghini Diablo sitting in the
My parents had read an article aboutdriveway. (Evidently Tuba instructors
some super-baby who joined college atare raking it in.)The car had just had
the age of 6 and at the age of 7 becamean amazing new cold air intake system
a renowned astrophysicist. They figuredput in and it was ready to race. No time
that ol' junior could use some mentalto hesitate, I told myself. It's now or
development as well. They probably wentnever.
a little overboard. First they got me aI threw my tuba aside and jumped into
language tutor, then a chess instructorthe car.
and then they even started to playThe engine roared, and suddenly I was
Mozart during dinner time! Finally cameoff, tearing down the street at 150 mph.
the tuba lessons.I couldn't really see over the wheel to
At first it was fun. The instrument waswhere I was going but that didn't
almost as big as I was, and I lovedmatter-speed was the most important
blasting into it until I fell from thething at that point. I slowed down
chair unconscious. But my tubalater, driving over people's lawns and
instructor didn't take kindly to mymaking my way toward the coast. I felt
random noises. He held tuba playing togreat.
be a sacred art, one worthy of theAs I headed toward the ocean, I had to
utmost respect.drive along the edges of some cliffs,
Every Saturday morning he would come toand that's where I got into trouble.
my house with a bundle of papers - sheetWhile trying to make a fast turn, I lost
music and scales that he would make mecontrol and the car spun off the road
practice endlessly. Before I began, heand over a cliff. I fell a thousand feet
would pull out an old hourglass, give meinto a ravine and the car exploded into
a stern look, and then tip it over. If Ian enormous fireball. Luckily, the force
made too many mistakes in a row, heof the blast ejected me from the car and
would grunt and start the hourglassflung me back up to the top of the
again from the beginning. It wasravine where I lay unscathed.
torture. One Saturday, I had to play hotI made the 11pm news. The authorities
cross buns for two straight hours!described me as a 'precocious
My mind grew numb over time and I onlymiscreant'. I told the cops that my
wanted to escape. One day, I asked to beteacher asked me to destroy the car for
excused to empty my spit valve and triedinsurance purposes. They promptly
to think of a plan. There was no way Iarrested him and gave him a life
was going back in to face thatsentence. Problem solved!
hourglass. But what could be done?Sure, my parents yelled at me for a
I could rush my teacher, ram the tubacouple of hours, but I think they were
over his head and then make my escape,secretly proud that I had been called
but the sound of this violence would'precocious'.
probably get my parents' attention…



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