I found my horn.

So, I have this french horn, right? I've had it since I was about 17. It's a beautiful, unlaquered, Alexander 206C. It's lived various and sundry places with me: Massachusetts, Virginia, California, Virginia again, and I have always loved it in it's dingy, old, worn and tired glory. And not until today, until this very day, did I really understand what it was that I hold in my hand.

My horn is stamped with the name "Thomas Newell", which meant nothing to me until this morning when the horn surgeon from who I retrieved my baby made a statement about this man being a former horn player for the Boston Pops in the late 70s and 80s. How did I miss that?? How did I, a fan of the BSO and the Pops for the entirety of my sentient life miss such a connection? In my research, I found that he did some teaching at the New England Conservatory in the 70s, as well as being an creative inspiration to many. He developed lip cancer (real career breaker for a horn player - and an issue for which he was sued his doctor) and could no longer play. In short, in all of my research of this man, he was a musician to emulate. A teacher, mentor, friend, and eminently talented musician.

With such an austere dossier literally tattooed on this horn, I picked up again after months using nothing but student model Conn 8Ds (a perfectly viable alternative), and felt a new sense of belonging to this instrument. All I am saying, is that you never know what you have, until you know what you have. And I'm lucky.