The Second Hand Man

My father came home with the bad news today. Actually he got the news three days ago, but only found the courage today to tell my mother.

My father rarely, if ever, partakes of alcohol. But he was clearly, although slightly, inebriated when he told my mother the bad news. Yep, like most cowards, he had first sought to gather some courage from the bottom of a bottle.

Just as I had foretold, Fred Waring got the promotion that Sallinger had promised to him.

Another official announcement made, was one of my own. Something I too needed courage to make, but not having the luxury of being able to gather it in the same fashion as my father, I had decided to use the opportunity at hand.

Even the unflinching patience of Miss Fifield was beginning to reflect my own frustration.

Yep, I’ve decided to quit my piano lessons for good!

It was perfect timing! Neither of my parents seemed to have the fortitude or energy to reprimand or lecture me about all the money wasted on lessons, or on the possibility of great achievements that can only be gained through great persistence.

I think it was Clint Eastwood in one of his flicks who said, ‘A man’s gotta know his limitations!’