or, “How a Clarinet Saved My Life”
I played in the football field show today (which was awesome), but right before halftime my life flashed before my eyes. The band was congregating on the edges of the field for our halftime show, and I was standing a couple yards away from the back corner of Stanford’s end zone. As I’m watching the last few plays of the half, I notice that one of Tavita Pritchard’s always oh-so-accurate throws is heading right for the corner I’m standing behind. Needless to say, no one caught the pass, and as the ball bounced in the middle of the end zone and began hurtling straight towards my face, I realized that life is really too short.
Anyway, then the football hit the girl in front of me. Or rather, she half-ducked out of the way, half-shielded herself with her clarinet. I was fine. She was fine.
The clarinet snapped in half. Alas, poor woodwind. I knew him, Horatio.
On a completely unrelated note, the club sandwich at the CoHo is delicious.