I was watching my daughter play cello at a concert last week. It would seem she’s first chair, which means that they put her closest to the front so her playing stands up against other cello players who may not be quite as good.

It would appear my legacy child was able to accomplish something I never could.

When I was in 4th-6th grade band, I played trumpet. I was a pretty solid trumpet player. But there was always one in our band who I couldn’t overcome: Cathy Tuttrup.

No matter how hard I worked and how well I played, she was always given first chair. Oh, I suspected bribes, kissing up, brown-nosing and the like. She was good, to be sure. But not clearly better than me.

Be that as it may, 6th grade came and went and I was never able to break into that first chair. And now, forevermore, my chance is gone.

Now I live vicariously in the first chair of my daughter.

Oh, the scars of youth…