And the fact that I could not see my music further frustrated me so I gave up. Since my hearing is more acute, I hated my sound. "Oh just play yourself," I yelled, admitting defeat. Of course, the dear girl enjoyed our lesson since I missed more notes than she did and played with a Godzilla of a posture, leaning so close to the sheet music on the stand that my nose touched it. I taught one of my more zealous students today whose mother drove through the snow just because her daughter did not want to miss lessons. When the rehearsal finished, my conductor approached me and asked, "You will have your glasses next semester, right?" And the same happened in 007 and Phantom of the Opera. The first piece was "Pirates of the Carribean, Jack the Pirate." I played e-f-g in eigth notes while my stand partner played the correct version of d-e-f in triplets. I squinched, trying to make out the image of the perpetrators.Īfter each section tuned, we began to play. Some ignorant blokes laughed at my mishap.
I then said (my first words as concertmaster), " can you give the woodwinds an A please?" I was staring at the string bassist on the opposite side of the room. That night, my conductor had me stand as she introduced me as the new concertmaster. I took off my half-lazy glasses and the world became a snowy blur.Īmazingly, I made it to Miller Performing Arts center where we were to have one last rehearsal for the semester. I started up the driveway to Alfred's house when a headache came over me. Seconds before, I never would have thought I would be yearning to be back on the other side of the side-walks.
#Annoyingly cute triplets who lived on the hill driver
So, I waved a polite thank you to the confused driver and walked a forlorn distance to the other-side of the street. Because I was in the middle of the street and the hesitant driver waited for me to pass, I could not take on the impossible task of getting-on-all-fours and fishing for it. Recovering from a moment of shock that a car had actually stopped for me on that inhospitable day, I jumped into the street, when suddenly one of the lenses in my glasses popped out and found comfort in the lowest depths of the snow.
.jpg "annoyingly cute triplets who lived on the hill")
Finally, a cute van (I view all vehicles as cute, big animals) screeched to a stand still as if it had been debating whether to let me through and had come to the decision at the very last moment. Agitation creased on my forehead when no car would stop to let me pass. I stood across from the becoming, small white house in which Alfred the Dog resided. Of course, the snow, the traffic all should have been a sign as to what would happen next, but I am no highly analytical, genius detective who could put such trivial things together while such a large picture surrounds me. I smiled at the traffic, reflecting back on my home town of Los Angeles, laughing at the thought of seeing its manifestation in the tiny town and on the slender streets of Alfred. Main street was alive with slow, impatient cars queuing in the inclement weather. I exited Alfred University, traveling down a steep hill, or sliding down the hill is a better word. But they were okay, even if a little numb. I kept glancing down at them to see if the uncovered part had become frost bitten, yet. Partly, my fault since I wore peddle pushers which exposed half of my legs.
The sun waved an indistinct goodbye and goodnight behind gray clouds and the ground hid under blankets of unblemished snow (as it still is today). Yesterday, I ran to walk Alfred the dog in Alfred the town. I walk a dog named Alfed in a town called Alfed in exchange for violin lessons. Printer-friendly version The Trivial Ain't So Trivial Anymore
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