King Alto

Z. is my oldest, he is quite talented at the flute, and he's learning the sax.
Last night we attended his concert (before the Harry Potter bash) at the Governor's School for Performing Arts. He played in the Jazz band. He loved playing "One Mint Julep".

This sax was one of my old trades. Some guy was tired of having his daughter's sax kicking around the house and advertised it "FOR SALE or TRADE for firearms".
Well did I have a deal for him. My step-grandfather had developed dementia and had tried to shoot his caretaker after lighting the house on fire. The caretaker must have been quick and somehow took a pistol away from my step-grandfather before a tragedy occured. I arrived at the house a short time later to have said pistol shoved into my pocket with instructions to "get rid of this". I complied and became the proud owner of a King Alto.

Z. doesn't like the King because the G sharp sticks. His teacher Ed told him to clean the key with lighter fluid and fixed it. Z is fifteen and he still sees the answer as a new horn. Mom has yet to comply. I remain silent.