It’s short days left in 2014. Pat O is there with the fire alarm people. I’ve had to tell them to stop calling me on my cell phone. Apparently some phone wires got cut in the process of repairing the Internet during the reconstruction of Mc Alpin. The first crew seemed to think that was all that was wrong. But as we feared, the official inspector tells us it’s more complicated than that. How much more, and how expensive, remains to be seen.
David S has many long wires spread out working on finally resolving the Internet problems.
Karen is playing the piano, reflective music as darkness falls. And also seeking help with an issue.
Later tonight there’ll be one last chance this year to play the Gate with Marie.
Geoffrey is asleep in the sanctuary again. I knew it was Christmas Eve in New York City when just at the dramatic moment before we lit our candles, just before we sang Silent Night, in the perfect still silence, from the back of the church comes the piercing sounds of Geoffrey’s snoring.
…..whether we wake or sleep, we should live together with him… we belong to the Lord. (1 Thessalonians 5:10)
There’s another man who would appear to be homeless playing the Beckstein. Or rather, randomly picking out notes. Occasional musical progressions or phrases, but, well…
I think about saying something. But don’t. I’ll let it roll awhile.
He finishes. Before he walks out the door, he turns and looks at me. I’m a famous musician you know? I write for the New York Philharmonic, and like that. If you want, I can write you some good music. Some good music. All for free. You know? I thank him. Onward Christian soldiers, he says. And he’s out the door.
As I get ready to leave, to go visit Rachel, Geoffrey is still asleep I the back of the sanctuary.
Sleep in heavenly peace….