OK, luvs — I’m off the RtB grid for a couple of days. BEHAVE!

No, really. It’s funny, and I loved reading it.

Not the article, mind (although it’s, um…big, I’m sure), but rather some of the comments after the article. That right there was my coffee entertainment this morning.

Please don’t read meaning into anything — I’m not hating on The Donald. It doesn’t matter that I think he’s a cockadoody pompous arrogant jackarse whackjob with an orange face. It’s just that sometimes, the regular Joes and Janes of the world are better pundits than the ones on the payroll. That makes me happy. Cuz it’s funny.

Oompa loompa, doopah-dee doo. *sNOrT*

In other news: there cannot possibly be only a dozen days left till we open, with four nearly-sold-out shows, and when everything onstage is still horrible.

All it needs is a nice polishing, and at least it’ll look good. HA. I love this instrument, actually. A Strad copy built in 1968 by Roth (so I come down on the German side of the whole German vs. Italian violin thing), my parents bought it for me when I was in the 3rd grade, and I’ve played it somewhat regularly over the decades — with its original pernambuco bow — ever since. I do need a rehair, though, yikes.

I studied privately, nonstop (including summers, grrr) from 1968-1977, when I graduated high school. I hated practicing (then as now), but I have to admit I love playing it — now that I don’t *have* to.

For being a “student model” violin, it has an amazingly warm, full, dark tone, and I wouldn’t trade its color and sound for the world, or for its brighter, more bell-like Italian relatives. It’s like an extension of me after 40-some years, and I hope to play it for many more to come.

Speaking of playing, I suppose I ought to think about warming up the fingers and arms. Many hours to go before I collapse back here late tonight after cleaning the reception hall, post-party. Papa Thriller is looking forward to getting gussied up and giving away the bride; it will be a fun day.

Laissez nous rouler!

1. Appointments in Vermilion, Mansfield and points elsewhere — check.
2. Practicing done, fingerings marked, order determined — check.
3. Dress bought — yikes.
4. Extra set of violin strings, just in case — oy.
5. Wedding programs folded — nope.

I see I’m not quite done yet. But getting there! I may not have a moment to post this weekend, but I will try over coffee. In case I don’t, however, everyone is assigned to a great weekend — finklove to all.

Do you ever chronicle your thoughts at a given time? I woke up at 2:30 this morning, but didn’t get out of bed until 3:15. In that 45-minute span, I had some definitely random NFs:

• Prince Charles will likely be outlived by his mother, and therefore never have the chance to be king.
• The windows in our 2nd floor bedrooms are likely 40 years old.
• How exactly do phones recharge?
• I wonder what’s the best way to transport cake pops.

There were probably more bizarre thoughts, but these are the only ones I remember. And now it’s 4:51 a.m. and of course, I am ready to go back to bed. But no! My alarm (which is still upstairs, dangit) will go off in 9 minutes, and it’ll be time to get ready to shape young voices, one wrong note at a time.

Have a great Monkday — a short week for me this time around, yay!