Rushing across the state for the joy of wearing pantyhose.

After work today I will be rushing out the door, hopping in the car, rushing out to buy a pair of hose, then driving about 200 miles so I can put them on. How exciting!

I'm kidding, of course. Well, I have to get the hose and put them on, but mainly I'm playing in a bell concert, and they really appreciate it if I dress appropriately. I'm much happier in my comfy khakis and a sweater, but my happiness is not as important as our choir's uniformity; so it's in to the ugly blue shirt and pantyhose with me.

I really don't feel that we're adequately prepared for this concert; we've been short a ringer all semester, and we'll be playing with a substitute, which is rarely a good thing. Nonetheless, I will stick my chin in the air and do it. Days like this make me glad that I won't be able to do bells in spring.

I will miss the music, though. I love the challenge of it, and the focus that it requires; not to mention a chance to use all of those skills I spent most of my life persuing. Some of my favorite bell pieces are the really difficult ones. I loved "Laudation", which switched between 5/8 and 7/8 time; matter of fact I love pretty much any piece with rhythmic challenge like that. I also liked "Aida" a lot (the music from the opera), and I love to play Pachelbel's Canon no matter how many times we do it at weddings. My favorite handbell Christmas piece is "For Unto Us a Child Is Born", from Handel's Messiah. Probably my favorite piece of all time, though, is "Reunir", by William Payn, written specifically for bells. It's very challenging, and mostly I think I love it because my choir once played it so perfectly that when we were done, no one applauded. The room was silent; the audience (around 300 people) was stunned. Many of the choir members were in tears, as were several audience members. I'll always remember that moment as one of my best in any performing art. It is very difficult to overwhelm people like that, especially with music, because they are bombarded with it every day, and have become inured to it.

I won't miss having to run out of work on Fridays to drive hundreds of miles and play a concert that night, returning to my honey after midnight. I won't miss touring, and I certainly won't miss loading and unloading our 25 cases of bells and chimes, dozens of tables, and all our stands and gear. None of this stuff used to bother me so much back when I was 19 years old and playing in the choir. How have I changed? Am I not a hard worker anymore, no longer a valuable volunteer?

No, I think I just no longer have anything to be escaping from that drives me to do crazy stuff like that. I'm happier staying home. That is a very good thing!

Forest and I are still both diseased, and downing the Tylenol Cold nondrowsy stuff as though it were our last water on a desert island.

Speaking of desert islands, I've been drooling over honeymoons again, and I must say (as I look out the window at the snow) that a secluded and faraway beach sounds TERRIBLY appealing right now. I think I've found a nice spot for Forest and I to go, where we will fit in well and have both our needs met. There's a place on Jost Van Dyke (British Virgin Islands) that rents out villas by the week. They are isolated by the hills around them, look really nice, and are situated right above a private beach. If we want to go out to eat, or something, though, we could hike a half mile to the other edge of the island, or go 4 miles to the main street of JVD, and eat there. Otherwise we can fix our own food in our own kitchen; which is appealing since we're such total cereal-eaters. There's no sense spending a ton of money on food for people like Forest and me. We have no appreciation of it.

I suppose that's enough dreaming for the day. I'm off to seek my fortunes as a handbell ringer for the night. Heh heh.