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This morning

December 11, 2009

I woke up and read Judith and Dawn’s remarks and felt instantly better after failing as a toffee bar maker, not to mention Not being in the local newspaper. This is why I like blogging. It helps with the loneliness factor. At least mine. Especially when life is difficult or irritating, not tragic, since when something awful happens, like death, everyone clusters around.

Yesterday, my son and I rushed to a music rehearsal for the Hannukah party at our Temple. This Temple thing is impromptu, not like my son’s orchestra where you have to sign your commitment in blood. And the music is easy, beautiful, but not difficult. We haven’t been able to go to any of the other rehearsals — no need to explain why — you can imagine why, although I feel like listing all of our daily duties just to make it clear how very busy we are. But who isn’t? busy, I mean.

The band members (all adults without homework or bedtimes) had a lot to discuss: where people should stand, how many verses we were going to do of each song, when the flute should play, when the violins should come in (that’s us). Finally, some music happened, but when it was after 8, I broke the news that we were going to have to leave. Dinner, undone homework, sleep. The young man conducter (childless) fixed me with a gimlet eye (dawn, what is a gimlet — I feel you know), and said, “Maybe you could come to more rehearsals next time.” Although it is possible that he was simply expressing his good will, that he would like to see us more, or something nice like that, I went with snide and gimlet-ed back, “We don’t need to play in the concert if you don’t want us.”
“No, no,” he said, backing down, “You may as well play.”
You may as well play. Hmph.

When I was in college, I looked forward to graduating so I could take my rightful place as Queen of the World. There is nothing more humbling than growing up. Also, I am fully aware that Rabbi Hillel, Maimonides, and Jesus Himself would not have been irritated at our poor conductor, who, after all, was just trying to do his job, although none of these holies were responsible for the bedtime of a school child.

8 Comments leave one →
  1. December 11, 2009 11:42 am

    Yes, I curtailed rock-band rehearsal last night so that Paul could go home and take a shower. The other 3 kids in the band are teenagers; they LIKE to take showers. But when you possess a 6th-grade boy you have to schedule in cleanliness. Otherwise, it never happens. This is something that young childless conductors do not understand.

    A gimlet is a corkscrew, I think.

    One of these days, that conductor is going to be awake for six months with a colicky baby. And by that time your son will have gone away to college, and you’ll be giving the exhausted new father the gimlet eye and saying, “You may as well conduct.”

  2. December 11, 2009 8:07 pm

    I’m glad you felt better. And I’m glad you stood up to the conductor.

    I have to laugh a little, though, because (1) one of my biggest complaints about singing in church choir is that a zillion more rehearsals and services seem to get tacked on during this time of year as well as during Easter. How is it the pastor can preach about taking it easy and not being stressed when they add extra services and childrens events and everything else? Inasmuch as I enjoy singing, church choir has become too much lately. The other reason (2) is that I can remember when I was single and feeling put upon by the married people in the congregation who seemed to think that because I didn’t have children or a significant other that I had more time available to do things like singing extra services or teaching religion classes or serving meals. I was as busy as a single person as I am as a married person.

    Well, I put it all down to it being the “Stress-mas” season. We go the extra distance to make things special, but we forget that there is a price for all of that extra. Fortunately, I can knit all year around for Christmas. The rest, well, it’s not like the cookies can be baked in January and then be fresh in December.

    Shall we all just convert to Wicca so that we can get out of a lot of this extra stuff?🙂

  3. December 11, 2009 8:10 pm

    Oh, and a gimlet (the one that isn’t a form of martini) is a type of auger. Think of it as a drill bit with a T-handle on top. Thus, the gimlet eye is a sharp and piercing look, meant to bore holes (emotionally, of course) of guilt.

  4. Ruth permalink
    December 12, 2009 9:34 am

    A gimlet is a tool for boring holes in a substance; thus, a gimlet eye must be a piercing or sharp look. Fie on him, whatever that may mean!
    Though I have no birth children of my own, I do have 31 10 year olds at the moment and that at least qualifies me to say…unless you have a family, don’t judge what it takes to move them about. I sometimes feel like a tugboat with the Titanic. I can’t quite imagine what a 24/7 parent must need to do.

  5. December 12, 2009 4:30 pm

    I still write in my journal (as well as blogging), but my journal never talks to me and it certainly does not provide me with definitions — thank you everyone. And, it also does not tell me that sometimes it feels like a tugboat or that Shakespeare wouldn’t like all my sentences (Well, I don’t like all of his). We have to go play in our little band Right Now. Actually, we should’ve already left, but I can’t stand the thought of breaking the news to my son that we have to go play music at the Temple —

  6. December 12, 2009 4:31 pm

    how about just being backsliding UUs

    Thank you so much, Judith. I loved your words.

  7. December 12, 2009 11:11 pm

    I’m sad because we could not manage even the required minimum of one rehearsel (out of three scheduled) to join our interfaith carolling group….just could, not, get, there. And so we won’t go carolling, again this year, and my kids are almost grown and won’t have a memory of carolling. But we’re too busy with Hanukkah, and middle school jazz band, and the rock band rehearsels for International Night, and the African drumming group. And this time of year, you just have to say no sometimes. Funny all these musical middle-school sons…

  8. December 13, 2009 8:51 am

    Maybe we should start a group: mothers of middle age musicians. Thanks, Susan. I love that you go to African drumming!

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