The Narrow Way: Part Two

Today was a day of auditions at the Greatest Music School on the Whole of God's Green Earth. Which means I was there early, managing the show. And now I’m tired. I’m sooo tired.

Here's a representative sampler of my morning for you:

At 9:20, after the panel of speakers had their say, but before both the music theory placement test and the parents’ meeting, a man approached me, a father to one of the auditionees. Here's what he said to me:

'I died a few years ago. I can remember what happened twenty years back, but I can't tell you what I had for breakfast this morning, so I’m going to be writing down everything you say. So . . . is there any way you can get my daughter a scholarship?'

What. the. hell?

Every audition day something bizarre happens, like some guy telling me he’s dead and can I give his daughter some money. Every time. The pattern suggested by events like this has led me to formulate

Sabitathica's Apophthegm: The more concentrated the event, the more oddness will be attracted to it.

I also got to see erstwhile buddy Natasha for the first time in a while, over a year I think. Her first words upon seeing me: You're old. Awww, what a sweet thing she is . . .

Oh, and props to my two assistants, Brendan and Diana (pronounced Deeana, and don't you forget it!) who were (and are) reliable and cheerful even while doing some of the necessary grunt work. And this despite the fact that I've fired them at least twice a day since August and regularly tell them to stop showing up for work.