Clarinet a la King (Pls Crit)

Among the things that I do is play the clarinet. Not that you would pay to hear me. No, that's not how it is. I play for myself. The sound of my instrument is very important to me and I'd like to tell you why.
When I first began to play I nearly gave up. I soon regarded the reed piece with complete disaffection. I felt that the squeaks and squawks, always at the most inappropriate times, were affronts to my budding musical taste. These maverick noises always came between me and my love of those beautiful wind sounds that I had heard played by others. Clarinet playing, at its best, had a profound affect on me because it struck an ancient chord deep within me
Fortunately, someone told me about a musician known as Solly. He was the key item on the must haves at any Jewish wedding. In fact, no ceremony was complete without Solly and his rampant clarinet.
What brought us together was the gift of knowing how and why a clarinet reed went maverick. With his uncanny knowledge, he was able to completely coax me into a new state of mind. Yes, he did say "o vey, your lips and o vey, the shape of your mouth?" but it was something that he did to my state of mind that swung the scales.
There came the time when I could pick my instrument and just sail up and down the scales. It was an incredible feeling. My life became a joy and I looked forward to each new day and its practice sessions.
Soon, Solly began taking me with him to Jewish weddings. Oh my. I can to this day, recall every detail of my first visit.
OK, a Jewish wedding is a little exotic. There are customs that are faithfully followed. I accepted them was able to become absorbed in them. But there was a moment when I was totally taken aback. I was shocked but at the same time filled with a total exhilaration.
It happened on that first occasion when Solly ceremoniously stormed into the hall, like a one man carnival. His clarinet calls went up and down ancient, perhaps Babylonian, scales and I was transported into the world dancing, longing, laughing and even forbidden joy. Well, that's what I felt.
And his dancing? I'd never seen anything like that. He stepped and turned all around the wide open space. He waved his clarinet around as if it was a magic gift from God and he was showering everyone in the room with heart beat pulses of exuberant joy. He waved it from wall to wall, then addressed the floor and, at times, raised it to the ceiling. His glissandos took you with them to heights that nine to five people never thought about.
I left that wedding exhausted but I knew...I really knew...that for a moment, I had been truly alive.
I met Solly in a bar one night. It happened after I had already been to three weddings with him. I couldn't wait to have a conversation with him away from all the glitter and the ceremony. We had a couple of beers and then we began to talk.
There were matters relevant to the wedding that I had to discuss with him
"Solly, there at the wedding. Was that really you? I mean the unadulterated you?"
"So who should it be? Who else could I be but me?"
"So that is how you play? I mean the real you?"
"Did you think that I played like someone else? Like whom should I play then?"
"Look Solly. I'm trying to tell you something. You were wild. You showered the room with joy. Even I felt like dancing. I no longer cared. I just felt in anther world."
"So you think that you got a little happy? So you got a little lift?"
"Yes. I thought of tents. Veils. Dancing. I thought of Biblical times. Don't know how to explain it."
Solly stared at me for along time before he nodded his head. He put his hand on my shoulder and spoke to me with a soft glow in his eyes.
He passed me my beer and then took his glass and held it towards me.
"My dear boy. I think that you're ready to hear this. You know the story but not like I'll tell it to you now. Long ago there was a man called David. He even became a king
He did many bad things but God forgave him. You will ask why and so I'll tell you why. Because he sang and he danced and he composed to please God.
We say that God loves it when we're happy in His name. Not sadly happy. Not all stiff and formal but joyfully happy."
"And that's how you play at weddings?"
"Yes, my dear boy. And that's how you must play. Even when you are sad or happy or in love you must play as if you want to thank God for all that He has given to you ...and to us all."
"So music must flow from a sense of celebration of God's love?"
He looked into my eyes, as he poked his index finger into my chest.
"And it must come from there, my boy. Right from there."
"I can do that, Solly."
"Now listen to your Uncle Solly. No music is worth a damn unless it comes from there. Never mind whether you're happy or in deepest sorrow.

A year or two passed and Solly and I parted. I was transferred to another city but he was never far from me. In fact, I got into the habit of sitting on a bench in a park on every Saturday afternoon and playing softly. I often thought about how he would answer my questions with questions of his own.
It was my custom to go to a nearby park every Sunday morning. In a secluded corner was a bench that I had begun to regard as my own. Feeling alive after my brisk half hour walk there, I would play softly to myself. Sometimes I would leap up and sway and turn while playing the songs that I had learned at the weddings. Then I would sit down with a broad smile. "Solly, that was for you."
One morning, something woke me from my reverie. I looked up and saw a young woman.
She had dark hair hanging loosely down. Her cheeks had a high colour and her eyes were alive.
I stopped playing and raised my eyebrows just a little.
"So did you like what I was playing?"
"Why shouldn't I like it?"
"Well did it do something for you?"
"Why should it do something for me?"
"I mean, did you feel that it come from deep down?"
"Isn't that where music should come from?"
"Did it make you feel close to me?"
"Did you want me to feel close to you?"
"So how close did you feel?"
"How close did you want me to feel?"
I looked her up and down for a long time. She was unusual but attractive. She was more tropical desert than Sussex. More Mercouri than Grace Kelly. More Arabica than Pimms.
Then I smiled as I thought about her answering all my questions with questions of her own.
"You're not Jewish, are you?"
No matter how well I played, my clarinet never made a more happy sound than her laughter did, at that moment.