Yesterday evening I was sitting at home, my windows open in honor of the late-summer warmth, when I heard a ghastly sound. A series of long, drawn-out scraping noises, like metal on metal, that went on for several minutes. A slow-motion car wreck, I wondered? A misguided attempt at do-it-yourself sewer repair? And then it hit me: One of the neighbor kids has taken up the violin.
God help us all.
2 comments:
My grandmother made my dad practice the clarinet in the car. (She was in the house. It was parked somewhere. Garage? Driveway?) Sadly, I notice that this explains a lot.
About his musical ability, or his hearing?
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