In a Land Far, Far Away...There Resides a Music Store

Today I drove 435 miles to rent a cello for my youngest.

He's been obsessed with the cello for months now, birthed by the visit of a cellist to his school and fostered by repeated viewings of "The Soloist." He incessantly pings me with requests for cello lessons, as if finding a cello instructor in a town of 3,000 people is simply a matter of picking up the phone.

A raindrop-wrinkled flier caught my eye the other day in Omak. "Violin Lessons. 555-1234." So I reasoned, a violin is really just a little cello, right? And I called. Her fee is roughly 3 times my budget for said lessons, and that doesn't include the violin rental. Sigh.

Turns out that Ms. Violin Instructor knows a cello instructor. She gives me a phone number. I make the reasonable assumption that Ms. Cello Instructor will charge at least as much, and even if I can swing it, there's no way I'll ever be able to find, let alone afford, to rent a cello.

Well, guess what. Cello lessons are affordable. She gave me contact info for 3 music stores which rent cellos. One I actually could afford.

Yes, it was a 435-mile round trip. Yes, the lessons are a 60-mile round trip once a week over a mountain pass. Yes, the lessons and monthly rental fee means no more eating lunch out and no more latte's. Yes, yes, yes. I know.

But my kid is going to take cello lessons.

My kid.

MY kid.