Friday, January 20, 2012

Part 1, Act 2: In Which We Are Considered Special

Bags in hand, we saunter into the exclusive resort shuffle into the Hampton Inn, College Park, MD. The lovely young lady at the front desk is practically orgasmic upon seeing us. By us, of course, I'm referring to the six foot-one inch, blond haired, blue eyed youth (his schlumpy manservant goes unnoticed).

But there is a very special sign being displayed prominently on top of the front desk. It's twin sits on the dresser in our room, along with a generous gift basket.

It seems we are the Guest of the Day. The night manager even trots out from the back room to greet us, and upon seeing me says, "It's about time you got here!" 

Ahhh, yes. We are special. Very special.


The audition, you ask?

Yes. That went very well too. We were the first ones to arrive, greeted by a friendly faculty member, and whisked off to the practice rooms, whereupon Wolfgang could warm up his fingers. 30 minutes later, whisked down to the lobby, whisked into green room, whisked into concert hall and off to the races. Apologies for the overuse of "W" there, especially without proper alliteration.

The Parents were kept at a distance and not permitted to watch the auditions. They apologized for it. I thanked them profusely for giving me a chance to miss out on my 352nd listening of Liszt's Vomit in G major, or whatever it's called. And Beethoven's Prelude and Weasel. And Bach's Hair on a G-string
I don't know. They all run together and every time I try to get the names right and blow it, Wolfgang looks at me like apes descended from me.

One down, three to go. And you can bet your ass I emptied that basket out before I left the hotel. No beer left behind!


  1. I'm actually giddy with excitement! I just caught up on all the happenings (prologue forth).

    Side note: Teaching my first grader about centripetal force. Because it's so easy to demonstrate. Keep spinning honey.

  2. I giggled with sheer delight over that welcome basket. THE MARSHMALLOWS!!! Adorable. I'm rooting for you, Wolfgang!!

  3. No chocolate in there? Maybe the chocolate was in the "guest of the week" basket. Bummer.

  4. Keeping everything crossed. Don't remember Bach's Hair on a G-String, could you hum a few bars for me?

  5. Two weeks until we're notified. Until then, we've got a few more of these to go through.

    @Nicki: Those Hampton Inn people must really love us.
    @dbs: Unfortunately, the chocolate didn't survive long enough to make it into the photo. Neither did the freshly baked cookies at the front desk!
    @Nubian: I could, but it might excite too many people in all the wrong ways.

  6. My lovely daughter Sheldon played the cello all through high school. Played at regionals and state. Made first chair at the City Youth Orchestra and even scored a trip to Russia where she forgot her $600 bow. Certainly a future blog post in that. Two weeks after high school she fell off a horse and broke her humorous. Translation: no cello playing or golf swinging for a year. Now she hardly plays at all. Two million dollars of parental support down the tubes.

    1. Oh, Mrs. Tuna! All I can say is, "Ouch!"
      And, "F*ck!"

      That makes me shudder. Empathy vibes coming your way.