呵呵，标题党一次。
中高档的小提琴的挑选是件很不容易的事，比挑选钢琴要麻烦多了。原因在于小提琴是木头做的，每块木头都长得不一样，没有太多一致性。对中高档的小提琴，每把都需要小提琴师傅根据木料的特性，精心制作。所以说，中高档的小提琴，全是手工琴也只能是手工琴。
在大部分的制琴师手上，小提琴的价格往往和音质关系不大；但在琴行里（尤其是美国的琴行里），音质往往和价格有着很大的关系，因为大部分顾客是由音质来付钱的。因为这个原因，小提琴的价格可以是非常离谱的，非常非常离谱的。在俺家孩子参加All-State表演的那周，有家琴行带了一大堆琴来现场展出，最便宜的小提琴的价格是一万多美元，最贵的小提琴要十多万美元。有不少孩子倒也是试了试那些琴，没有家长买。
中国现在是世界上最大的小提琴生产国。中国能制作出世界上最好的小提琴，也能山寨出世界上最烂的小提琴。所以，今年回中国，带上孩子挑一把适合她的小提琴，就成了我们全家的回国旅游重要任务之一。现在看来，任务圆满完成。挑琴的完整故事，在随后的孩子日记中会有详细描述，在这里我就不啰嗦了。
经常听说，小提琴和拉琴的人是很有缘分的。以前我不是很信这一说法，现在，通过这次我们自己的买琴的一系列事情，在联想到以前的一些经历，我还真信了这缘分一说。呵呵，好像有些迷信了。事实上，在小提琴和拉琴的人间，好像多少会存在着些像恋人之间的感觉吧。一个小建议，挑中高档的小提琴，应该带着孩子一块挑。
作为一个参照，孩子日记里写的我们去的第一家琴行，是 Sam's Strings 的小提琴http://www.store.samsstrings.com/Violins_c_18.html
我们试过他所有级别的琴。声音不是我们喜欢的那种。
第二家去的是九哥-丹尼提琴行，http://www.daniviolins.com/ 试过的琴有￥5，000，￥12，000，￥40，000 和一把丹尼亲手做的非买品小提琴。丹尼的琴声音很不错，琴的一致性控制的也挺好。他家的琴和弓是分开卖的，弓大约要￥2，000. 孩子拉￥40，000以上的琴的时候才开始有了些感觉。
第三家是我们买琴的地方，名字就不说了，免去做广告之嫌。
孩子日记中的“dollar"均指 "chinese dollar", 也就是￥（元）。
这日记一贴出来，也许会被人猜出我是谁。呵呵，在网上俺还是希望有点隐私，所以请认识的朋友们多多包涵了。
孩子的买琴日记，买玩琴后在兴头上，花了不到半个小时写的。为保持隐私，文中名字均为假名。
Violin Virtue
The warm, melodic sound of a shiny wood plate resonated around the small room. Stacks of shelves lined the walls with violins perched like sleeping birds, ready for ownership. We used the whole second day of China for a single purpose: to find an instrument.
The morning started out with us visiting the first violin store closest to us- we spent the whole morning there searching for a suitable instrument. Out of the very few they picked for us, none of them sounded worthy of the money they were worth. The two ladies badgered us endlessly using polite remarks and frank comments; my dad tried to contradict them in every word as well. After a hopeless morning, we left the store discouraged and half-hearted. None of the instruments had that spark to them; none of them, also, had that sound that distinguished them from the masses. Even the thousand dollar ones and the hundred dollars one sounded no different. After we came home to eat lunch, a specialty prepared by my dear aunt, I slept. I snored and rumbled, and no matter how much my dad tried to wake me, I stayed asleep. He grew mad and gruff, claiming I lacked “endurance”; Hey, endurance for what? Our second attempt at buying a violin was more or less futile, but had a better outcome than our first. There were only two violins in that price range we wanted: 5,000. My dad tried to limit me to those two violins, trying to tell me to pick the best one. But I couldn’t, because neither sounded as great as my previous instrument that was cheaper than them both!
After two failures in a row, we were about to give up and go home, but something- maybe a secret conscience-told us to give it one more shot.
At this time, we found out we were only two blocks or so away from this music store. It was owned by Anna (my cousin)’s dad’s uncle’s friend. The owner had no idea who Anna was, and only had a slight inkling of who her father was as well. But anyway, we decided to go visit him, since no matter how distant he might be, it was better to have some relation to the owner. We trudged another two blocks down the messy streets of Shanghai; It was such a fantastic and bizarre experience for me- there were small, self-made stores like those at the flea market, homeless people lying on the sidewalk leering at passengers, an extreme surplus of human bodies, smoke from barbeques and fires rising into the air, and little children wearing their school uniforms and their little red ties proudly walking home in little groups. Motorcycles and bikes were rampant on the road, and also, the latest Chinese fashion was also evident in the hairstyles and clothes of the walkers. I saw the popular, the jocks, the nerds, and the many other cliques of Asians walk around. I guess our group fell under the category of “popular”. Everybody dressed so strangely too. I guess baby fashion is the latest “in”.
When we finally arrived at the small but homey domicile of the owner, I was already exhausted to my extent. Coping with two failures, doubting my own ability, sleepwalking…I definitely needed a break. We opened the woodsy door and found ourselves in a small, enclosed room. A cash register stood, waiting for a chance to make some money for its owner. A slightly wide lady greeted us and gestured for us to go into the violin selling area. The owner came to greet us properly; I looked shy and timid, but little did he know how I truly felt. There was also another buyer; I’m guessing he came from the music academy, who was busily picking another instrument. His “simple tunes” were enough to amaze even the most advanced of violinists. After my family talked with the owner, (they were already becoming familiar with the terminology of instruments), we went upstairs, to where the real magic began.
I think the owner could also hear the difference in my playing- maybe that’s what propelled him to offer me one of his most prized instruments. He said that I had skill that surpassed the level of skill needed for a 5,000 dollar instrument, and then he offered me one of his best instruments, a 10,000 dollar violin. I can’t even write down the beautiful, intangible love I felt for that instrument. I sat there playing it for an hour almost, while my parents and my aunt bargained in the background. The sound was so perfect for me- warm, melodious, and easy to express through; the fingerboard was as smooth as water as I shifted across the wide board, listening to the notes merging and melting into each other. When I played spiccato, the sound grew rich and deep, but when I played legato, it was light and quick and fluid sounding. The fast notes were clear and lucid and easy to hear, and the slow notes sounded as though death had crossed yonder and left a mournful but enlightening tune, like the song of a phoenix. I had to have it. I had decided, from the first moment I touched it, that it would belong to me. The kind gentleman offered me another instrument, an extremely expensive one, for me to play, just for fun. Even that one could not compare to the 10,000 one I just played.
Then, to change my entire life, my dear aunt offered to buy that instrument for me. I can’t even describe what happened next.
It was all so amazing that I thought of it as a dream; an amazing, beautiful, and heavenly dream, almost as if the BFG had decided to blow 10,000 dreams into my bedroom window. I was so happy, I could barely talk. How my heart pounded in ebullient joy, my soul reached to the sky, my hands tingled in anticipation, yet my mind stayed far beyond. I hadn’t grasped the entire story yet. There is something different when I hold that instrument and feel that possessive nature beginning to grow like a bright morning glory within me, then when I just hear the words, “it’s yours.” The gentleman, I believe, heard my true potential and decided to be the best guy in the world by giving us a bow and a case for free. And it wasn’t just any “bow or case”; the bow alone cost about 1,800 dollars, and the case was one of his best, ever. It was so amazing; all I could do was nod and not wake up. Every moment, from when we bargained for the violin, to when we bought the second bow, was so precious to me that I felt it was as if I was standing on a thin sliver of luck- one break and I would tumble. When we had finally bought the instrument, I truly and finally realized that this wonderful thing was at last mine. I hugged my aunt like 23,423,940,823 times, and I even went back to go take a picture with the kind gentleman- the least I could do to show my thanks to him. We went home, where I played my dear violin for almost an hour, and then I feel asleep. I could take up five pages or so just writing about my thoughts I felt that night, but it is better just to summarize: I was so, freaking happy. Right now, as I type out this fantastic story, my violin lies like my loyal dog at my feet, also sharing the intangible joy coming from both of our hearts.
Lots of love,
Payson Jones
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