A couple of Wednesdays after Ventura, and maybe a week after the Yelling Band Practice, my new-normal Wednesday left me feeling . . . ew. Not horrible, gut-wrenching, vomiting sick, but washed out in several waters and left on a rock to dry. I decided I didn't have the stomach to go through another Yelling session. So I called the pipe major and said I wouldn't be at practice as I didn't feel well.
He said, "OK, and I was going to tell the pipe corp. A lot of bands have been having issues with those reeds we're using. Issues with staying in tune and stuff. It's not just us. I've got some new ones on order. They should be here next week."
Uh . . . . .what? You mean it wasn't Operator Error like you've been saying (loudly) (and angrily)for the past 3 weeks? It was the REEDS?!!?
He sort of apologized for the yelling. Sort of. I let him off the hook, saying 'How was he to know', etc, etc.
But seriously. We went from really good players to horrible in a matter of days and he thought it was US?
The following week's practice was approaching normal. We were in the Dance Studio of the high school, as every place else was full (I felt like Mary and Joseph. And 12 shepherds, and 3 wise men, and a bunch of sad cows, and six little drummer boys.) Tuning went surprisingly quickly. We did well on our sets. I played the new tune, Athol and Breadalbane--all four parts--pretty well for a first time. The atmosphere inside the circle was light and almost-but-not-quite happy. I could tell there were still some pipers who just couldn't quite believe it was all over.
We'll see what happens after Thanksgiving.