Forty bucks

Less than a month until the Carnegie Hall show. Up to now, I had let everything else take priority—classes, administration, running a job search, an email inbox with an unread count measured in scientific notation. Every problem that someone else has. Every dropped ball that has to be picked up. Every hit I take for the team. It all took time, and that time was all borrowed from this. It's our spring break here this week, and now I'm in total psychotic focus mode. I have grading, I have exams to write, but I'm not doing any of it. I'm cranky as hell. If my son bounces that ball in the house one more time, I'm going to snap.

Teaser #2

I posted the event on Facebook, and invited half the known world to come see. And people have started saying they'll be there. I figured people were just clicking the "yes" button as a kind of fist-bump, until a former student of mine sent me a picture of her ticket.

That was when I started getting nervous. People are shelling out a lot of bread to see this show, and now I'm overcome by this feeling that I really want to make everyone feel like it's worth it. Sure, there are several composers unveiling new work, there's an orchestra and all the stuff that goes along with that. But in my head, I want people to watch my part in it and think "that stream of images was worth forty bucks."

Fifty for the really good seats. Anyway, it's coming. And it will be worth it.