Oboe, when at high school. Gave up when I broke 2 reeds in a single week. It was a bit expensive. I was not gifted. In fact, my sister wrote a poem about my oboe efforts - now lost, of course - but the title was something along the lines of
"For my sister, who sometimes goes 'Quack'." *fume*
"Fortunately, somewhere between chance and mystery lies imagination, the only thing that protects our freedom, despite the fact that people keep trying to reduce it or kill it off altogether."
Luis Buuel