Friday, April 23, 2010

Repo ATVs & Electric Scooters

As the cellist's (2nd chair) fist crescendoed against my chin, I had a freeze frame rough cut flashback to my last real fight. It had been 15 years since my sophomore year(s) of college, when some clarinetist (1st chair) (!) insulted my then girlfriend with a snide comment about intransitive verbs. I was drunk at the time -- 6 beers and a pint of varnish -- but I was a Medievel Latin major and honor (4th chair) had to be defended. We both deposited some blood on that dancefloor (or rather, blood was allowed to become deposited), and ultimately the brawl was judged a draw, though I received high marks for the initial tackle (sans ropes and pulleys for a change -- huzzah!). But that was college stuff(s). Tonight was the culmination of a very simple question posed a few weeks before: “Are we here to play poker, or create an instituiton that is insubstantial, shaky, and in constant danger of collapse?"

1 comment:

  1. First of all, I was swinging at the intern (damn my bowing technique!). And second(chair)ly, you say "simple question" I mutter under my breath, "Blah, blah, blah. I'm Mr. Brookings Institute. Yadda yadda, I sure know how to yammer on." Great! Now I'm furious again. No offense. Where's that waiter?!


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.