augury doggerel

Wednesday, December 12, 2001

Kids, Ducks, Buzzard

Eight short kids playing 24 short piano pieces, a half hour of parents clapping and taking pictures. All of the kids were good.

Her idiot grandfather (with whom I did not sit) was the show's requisite imbecile with a ringing cell phone, only he outdid the type: it got three calls and it rang each time because he hadn't the sense to turn off the ringer. In another universe, where angry glares are laser beams, he was disintegrated twenty times. (Not that all of the other relatives set a great example; morons who talk during performances are far too common now.)

Afterwards, the kid and I walked down to feed the ducks. It was dark and a bit drizzly, but if you refuse to do something here because of darkness and drizzle, you won't do it until the next summer. She had a good time tossing bread to ducks who probably couldn't believe their luck in getting such a late snack.

Today a hungry buzzard is busily working the fields. Tonight will be cold.


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