Skipping Down the Sidewalk

I would have, but I thought the people behind me might start talking about me behind my back.

You guessed it: I was able to talk to him again...and THIS time, my camera actually worked!!! I started shaking with happiness when I saw that the video works and is audible upon leaving the conductor's green room. Is it possible to have two best days ever? There was no problem getting backstage, which was nice, as the man who gave me trouble last week was the one at the door I was told to use. Also, I realized tonight that the violinist who claimed me last week is the principal 2nd. He introduced the composer of the suprise piece that started off tonight's concert- a brand new piece composed especially for the LSO by Scottish Martin Suckling, who was seated at the opposite end of the row I occupied for the 15th and 16th concerts. I was jealous, for I had to crane my neck for 3 hours to see over the balcony ledge.

At a particularly exciting point of A Child of Our Time I was intently watching Sir Colin, when a quick sequence of events took place: There was a click, Sir Colin's hands were magically empty, the first violin made a quick leap to the floor, and, in one fell swoop, the baton was handed off, and the race continued without a single bump! This ordeal answered a question that had been floating around in my head: yes, it is has been known for the baton to be dropped. That was far too many commas.

Thanks to the Australian girl in my room who I had been talking with for a couple hours before the concert, I had a nice black bag that was large enough to house my camera and the 4" x 6" I printed of the picture of Sir Colin and me (he signed it). We might be doing the Jack the Ripper walk tomorrow. I'm glad she wanted to do it, too, for I would be much too freaked out to go alone, I'm sure.

*inhale*