writing down the sun

Is It Me?

Posted in strung out by annie on April 17, 2007

I ordered my violin off eBay – no, I’m not kidding. Sight unseen. It was, not the cheapest, but close to it. My thinking on this was that I didn’t want to put a lot of money into something I wasn’t sure I’d keep up with. That might sound odd, given the passion I professed earlier. But I do have something of a reputation for starting things exuberantly but letting them go weeks later in a fit of apathy. So, I didn’t want to go buy a $600 instrument until I was sure I was going to stick with this.

It arrived over the weekend, in a long rectangular cardboard box. I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited over a delivery, any delivery (except, you know, my daughter’s delivery but that’s a very different thing). I nervously installed the bridge – after having searched the ‘net for instructions. That went fine but then I realized that one of the strings was loose. I tried to tighten it but it had slipped off the tuning peg.

So, I took the violin in to the music store half an hour’s drive from my house. That’s OK, because I got to meet Earl. Yes, as in “My Name Is ___” except he’s not as goofy, but just as endearingly nice, and a bit younger. Also, without the slightly off brother following him around.

Before we get to Earl, though, let’s talk about what happened on the way down. Thirty minutes is a long time to be in a car by yourself and not have your little voices start speaking to you. You know those voices – we all have them. The one that popped up today belongs to a judgmental bitch that lives inside me and expects everyone else to judge me as harshly as she does.

“They’re going to make fun of your violin,” she whispered in my ear.

“Say wha?” I was confused. “How so?”

“It’s a piece of crap. The guy’s gonna laugh, and call over his buddies and they’re gonna laugh, and then one of them is going to call over a really good violinist who just happens to be in the store at the same time and HE’S gonna laugh …”

“Enough, enough, I get the picture. Why on earth would they do that?”

“Because. It’s a piece of crap. And you’re just going to give it up anyway, so why you even bothered….”

Whereupon I slapped some duct tape over bitch’s mouth and shoved her back in her box. I mean – damn. Who do I think I am, talking to myself like that?

And, for the record, no, of course no one mocked. Someone did laugh though – me. Then Earl. See, it started when Earl cautioned me, kindly, that this wasn’t “the best quality violin” – I laughed heartily and said, “For fifty bucks off eBay? Yeah, I’m aware.” He laughed. We both chuckled some more. He gave me a slip of paper, and said “Call back in the morning and I’ll have it all fixed up for you, ready to play.”

See, you horrid little critical voice? Nobody judged.

Unfortunately, Earl has now fallen out of my good graces as I’ve learned he didn’t finish my violin last night, as we discussed, so it’s not ready now. I have to wait a whole day. Another day. You’re dead to me, Earl. (I’m just kidding, Earl. We’re still buds, right?) This is actually a good thing, since I’ll be able to focus on work-type stuff, which has sadly been neglected in the distracting amber glow of all the violin goodness.

Should I name my violin?

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