Remember a couple posts ago when I mentioned that credit is dangerous? Well, I have succumbed to the evil. Today I ordered the Grey Larsen Preferred Irish Flute by Australian flutemaker Terry McGee. This model is based on a 19th century American flute, lighter and with smaller finger holes than your average Irish flute. Which is good for me, because I have really small hands and have never been able to manage a simple system flute before.
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I have to wait until the middle of next month for it to be shipped. I hope by then I will have become accustomed to the idea and not so freaked when it arrives that I hide it in the closet--or hide myself in the closet--and never touch it. I have been known to do this.
But I have high hopes. This is something I'm doing for myself. The only agenda is my own agenda, and I think it's a reasonable one. I just want to play. I don't have psycho band members breathing down my neck that I have to learn to do everything because they don't do their own work and I have to be able to cover for them. I don't have to listen to the...weird pressure couched as compliments: "You're so talented you can do anything but I'm worthless so I'm not even going to try. By the way, we need to be a headline band; you can make that happen, can't you?"
Well, enough of that. Maybe some day soon I'll tell the real and true story of BSS since, five years after the fact, I think I finally have enough perspective to know just what happened with that. In the meantime, though: I bought a flute! I think I'm happy about it.
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