Something so simple as a cold can turn even the bravest heart into a sad, whiny baby.
Today I am a sad and whiny baby. I wouldn't even be at work, except that the other luthiers all happen to be out of town this weekend, and someone needs to be at the shop in case of any emergencies. String instrument emergencies, don't laugh, it happens.
Yesterday, a violinist called up and needed her bow fixed immediately - the silver winding had come undone, and her senior recital is Saturday. Not something that you can drop off and leave for a week.
One time, Edgar Meyer had a broken tuning gear on his bass, and called up frantically saying he had Bela Fleck and a bunch of other people over at his house right then to record and needed it to be fixed right then.
Another time, Elvis Presley said the world would end if we didn't glue up an open seam on his viola.
Two truths and a lie. My point is, I'm snuggled in a blanket and eating soup and being very anti-social, but at my bench instead of on my couch, and I feel very crappy. And yes, in my brainworld, Elvis is secretly a violist. He'd probably be mad that I've outed him on my blog. To all two of my readers.
