Icicles are forming on our deck railing. If we were having a party, a drunk might slide off the deck into Opossum Run. After we finished the addition to the cabin, we didn't call for a final inspection. The inspector could have thrown his tennis ball from a hundred feet and, I guarantee, it would have passed through our substandard railing. Exhibit 1.
Our choral society might have filled a bigger church for its Christmas concert last night. Still, some of the audience thought many of the songs "sounded the same."
My composition professor insisted that the human voice is the only perfect instrument. I wouldn't disagree with him any more than I would tell a mother her baby is ugly. Some "purists" believe adding another instrument, even an organ or a piano, is like tossing Iceberg with a gourmet salad.
I like salads, but not for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Throw in some bread, soup, veal and, of course, chocolate. We did last night, starting with a carol sing-a-long, interspersing every set of three numbers with another community effort, adding an organ and piano here and there, floating a few solos on top, and ending with a rambunctious three-on-the-piano version of "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," complete with one musical bench-man falling on his face.
"That's what we nerds do for fun," says Virginia. Here's my vote for some trumpets, drums and a real harpsichord.
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