I remember the whole scenario with vivid clarity. Embarrassing moments are like that. They have a way of lodging themselves in the mind with the same inescapability as a piece of corn chewed from the cob makes its home neatly between two teeth. If only there was such a thing as brain floss to extricate an unpleasant memory from the mental archives…
An e-mail from the local music store announced an upcoming workshop to be given by the gifted pianist and composer, Joseph Martin. I transferred the date and time to my calendar and made plans to attend. As the day of the workshop approached, I excitedly told my sister about it and asked if I could take the compilation of hymn arrangements she had been working on so that I could get it autographed. She agreed.
On the day of the workshop, my sister handed me the book and I made the short drive to our music store. The head of the print music department welcomed us and Mr. Martin, giving an impressive introduction of the accomplished musician. I sat through the two hour presentation, soaking up the music and stories he shared with the audience. When his part was finished, I joined a string of others waiting to talk to him and secure an autograph. I finally reached the front of the line and presented him with the large volume, telling him how much my sister and I had enjoyed playing his arrangements for years. He granted my request for an autograph and conversed graciously for a moment before turning to the next person in line. Mission accomplished.
I gathered my things and headed toward the door. A friend of mine who was working at the music store stopped to talk and asked if I had gotten an autograph. I proudly opened the book and pointed to the newly inscribed signature. My friend took one look, then turned his eyes toward mine and uttered the exclamation I will never forget…
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