September 12, 2005 at 10:36 AM

We're laying out our clothes, filling in the final details, and checking the schedules and rental car agreements. The last time I packed the black formal was for my grandpa Steele's funeral, five years ago. Before that, well, lets see, when was the last music trip, anyway?

College orchestra--the Meyerson, Dallas. I think there's still a bit of magic fairy dust lingering up in the rafters there, left over from that final chord we played on Respighi's Pines of Rome. I've never heard a sound linger that long; the acoustics at the Meyerson could suspend life itself if you adjusted the panels just right. Not only that, but the afterglow from the performance had more kick than an arrow from Cupid's bow. The black gowns, the tuxes, the reception drinks and hors devours, and can you believe I almost said "yes" to the trumpet player? I'm glad I didn't.

Orchestra trips were bewitching. I still can't believe I stalked that boy in the khaki pants during high school All-State. My friend put me up to it, and we spent the entire weekend tracking him up and down the elevator while we conjured up some crazy way to meet him. (Gee, a nice handshake probably would have worked.)

Then there was the banquet, high school orchestra trip, Washington DC. We were all dressed nicely for the occasion, sitting around white tablecloths and fancy silverware, waiting for the meal to begin. I had my suspicions about the cellist sitting next to me, which were confirmed when he fumbled his iced tea onto my lap. How could he even consider it, he being a sophomore and I a junior? It was doomed to fail, of course, but one can't help but entertain the notion during an orchestra trip.

Fortunately, this time I'm traveling to Dutch Harbor with three older women. And I'm old, too, I guess; I forget that sometimes. We'll probably just practice a lot and be helpful and informative to all the kids, and stodgily entertain our audiences instead of stalking them. We'll go to bed early and remember to pack things like ear plugs and ibuprophen, and try not to miss our husbands too much.

What am I saying? I never go to bed early.

From Jim W. Miller
Posted on September 12, 2005 at 10:53 AM

You never go to bed early, but you're always safely at home. Well, at home at least. Knock 'em out, Emily.

From Scott 68
Posted on September 12, 2005 at 5:39 PM

my condolances on your loss

From Jim W. Miller
Posted on September 12, 2005 at 6:49 PM

It's kind of hard to read the whole thing now isn't it? I suspect her muse has gone dysfunctional.

From Emily Grossman
Posted on September 12, 2005 at 9:36 PM

Okay, guys, I'm confused...

From Jim W. Miller
Posted on September 12, 2005 at 9:38 PM

Who knows. I channel some entity. I don't know what Scott does.

But regardless, have a wonderful, safe trip.