When I think about July 7 at 5:00 pm, and me sitting with my cello on the park bench, I’m so tempted to put quotation marks around the word “concert”.  Yes!  Just like that.

My small mind imagines the four or five souls who will attend.  Will I really be giving a performance that they’ll appreciate?

I start getting rational.  You know … it’s been 56 years, arthritis in my bowing thumb, past my musical prime …  So much blah.

My practicing has been less than spectacular. Being “in tune” seems like a far off land. Often the bow doesn’t meet the string at the correct angle. There’s a grinding sound.

But as I’m won’t to say: “So what?” On I go to the 7th. I see four possibilities:

1. I play timidly and out of tune. (Please no)

2. I play timidly and in tune. (Have you heard the name “Caspar Milquetoast”? Thoroughly blah)

3. I play passionately and out of tune. (Actually this has an appeal – not that I want to play out of tune)

4. I play passionately and in tune. (Wow!)

Okay … I’ve decided. Timidity is not allowed to show up in the park on July 7. I will give ‘er. I promise.

***

As a teenager, I tuned my cello hundreds of time. As an old fart, I would say four. Today was the fifth. I have an app that gives me the correct pitch for the four strings (in ascending order): C G D A.

After practicing for awhile today, something was off. My cello was out of tune.

Take a look at the photo. Is there something missing? I decided to tune the A string. The top right peg must have come loose because the pitch of the string was woefully low. So I cranked the peg tighter. Still way too low. So tighter!

Then “Bang!” The string broke. The sad truth is that the top right peg adjusts the D string, not the A. I’d forgotten which peg was which.

So humbling. What’s happened to my brain in the passage of time? Well … I don’t know. I still think it’s a good brain.

Tomorrow I’ll take my dear cello to Arpeggio Music and have them replace the D string. And then I’ll hit the three songs again.

I’m smiling