|It's Disavowing the Weird
Coincidence Time. Thus:|
Yes, I realise that there is currently a fantastic fiddler living at Massey. I further realise that he has been playing in my folk band this year. I would like to point out that Casey's status as a fiddler has been clear for two full years. I would also like to point out that I have always intended him to join forces with other musicians...and that my real-life folk band has, in fact, contained four different fiddlers over the years. Casey-as-fiddler in no way reflects upon the real Masseyite whom, entirely coincidentally, he is seeming to echo right now.
Barbara-as-accordionist is a whole different story.
It has been requested that I post the lyrics for the songs I sang at Friday's Coffee House. These lyrics are actually already on my Rants page, but here they are in a more convenient spot.
Break a leg, Mr. You-Know-Who-You-Are.
|Monday, November 24, 2008|
|Panel 1: After the Coffee House, in the Davies College basement, Steve approaches Casey, who is carrying his violin case.|
Steve: You're a fantastic fiddler. Want to collaborate next term?
Casey: I don't play classical music.
Panel 2: Barbara pokes her head into the scene.
Steve: Neither do I. Folk all the way. I've been thinking of putting together a band.
Panel 3: Barbara edges her way around Steve.
Steve: Sure. We'd need some singers and a couple more instruments. I'm not sure who plays what around here...
Panel 4: Barbara has sidled around and is now getting right into Steve's face.
Steve: ...though I'm guessing I'm about to find out.
Barbara: My accordionist sense is tingling.
Alt-Text: I speak from experience when I say that one's accordionist tingles very, very seldom. For some reason, people seem reluctant to include accordion players in their bands.
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