Q: You have one fourteen-year-old harpist, pretty, for extra bonus points pretty in the way the pretty ones in your family are, pretty like your cousin who defined beauty for you, and she plays beautifully, you were so moved, everyone in the church was, the way she led two violins and a cello through Morfar Frenhines and The Burning of the Piper’s Hut. When did she get that big, you wonder, her in a borrowed skirt and motorcycle boots up in front of the altar, when did she get so grown up? When you leave, and she climbs into the car, a medium-sized car, a Fiat Dobl
hmmmm… wouldn’t that depend on the length of time the poop-boot was actually IN the car and how many windows were down at the time and how fast you were driving??
no matter what … too much time.
heh. playing the harp in motorcycle boots, too cool :)
-Too long, too long. All the way to work, confounded by the thought that the sensation of smell results from chemical reactions between the smell-receptors in my nose and particles in the air, actual molecules of some-stranger’s-dog shit in aerosol form touching me, reacting with my body. Feh.
-Yes, some harpists work counter to image. There was one with dreadlocks at a recent workshop, but motorcycle boots are cooler, sure. I’ve seen a harp played with a screwdriver, too.
Wouldn’t the screwdriver make for some disturbing cacaphony? I mean, like, Ew….
Or do you mean played while under the influence of vodka and orange juice?
Hah.
No, it was a standard philips screwdriver. I mean, it was a 12-year-old girl. Some jazz piece.
When I play cello under the influence, it’s usually gin and tonic, or fine single malt.