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Life Goes On After Ireland, Right?

Two weeks later....

I still think of Ireland on a daily basis.  I would give my right arm to return there.  The tranquility, the fun, the friends.  However, life goes on, right?

Just two weeks after we returned from Ireland, Johannah and I were scheduled to participate in a handbell festival held annually here in State College.  It's kind of the culmination of a year's work for our bell choir, and we never have an absent member.

I love going to handbell choir practice.  It's one of the few times where I get to interact with people who aren't members of our church, and I have made closer friends there than I have at church!  Plus, it's nice to still be involved in something musical nowadays.

Unfortunately, the more advanced choir (also sponsored by the same catholic church) isn't quite so friendly.  In fact, I am frequently asked to substitute for absent members of their choir, and it just about kills me when our director, Gail, asks me to sub in the treble bells.  Those bells are covered by "those kinds" of women.

Oh man, you know those older women who have been doing something for a while, and it doesn't matter who you are or what you do, you can never be good enough for them?  Yep, it's four women all grouped together, and if you are coming in to sub, it's misery.

No joke, they tell me what to do in regards to all things musical.  Me, a person who has studied more music in one semester of college than they have in their entire lives.

When I sub, I sight read all of the music.  Pages and pages of it.  There's never a compliment about how well I do, or how happy they are that I'm there because it's rather awkward to play when several bells are missing.  Nope.  If I make one mistake, they are all OVER me about it.

I don't mind subbing down in the bass bells, because the men there are friendly, fun and welcoming, and they are more than happy to gripe about those catty women...which is just fine with me.  These women give women around the world a bad name--they are bossy, know-it-alls who don't like anybody but themselves.  In fact, all of my friends dread subbing too.

For the bell festival, there are sixteen different choirs set up in a large high school gym.  Westminster Choir (the more advanced choir) stands in front of our choir (St. Dunstan).  Our director, Gail, is also the director of the entire festival, so needless to say she has a lot to think about.  Too, I would guess Gail is in her 60's so it can be a bit difficult for her to remember everything.  Our choir absolutely loves Gail, because we recognize that without her, we wouldn't have this opportunity.  You can guess how those "other ladies" feel about her--they openly criticize everything she does.

As it turns out, Gail had brought not only the bells we usually have (and gave them to Westminster), but she rounded up a second set of bells for our choir.  Unfortunately, she had forgotten some of the higher chimes and extra octave bells for us, so that when we showed up for rehearsal, we were missing 2/3 of the bells that we need.  No problem--Gail has a million bell connections, and she was headed to pick up the second set later in the afternoon, just hours before the performance.

So, let's think about this.  If there is a choir that has played this music countless times and has years of experience, and another choir that has members who have only been playing for four months, whom do you think then needs more practice with all of the bells?  That's right--the novice choir.  However, do you think any of those women were about to give up any of their bells to us?  No way, Jose!

In fact, three of the four treble bells were gone for most of the morning rehearsal, because they were making sandwiches for lunch.  What did my stand partner recommend we do because we needed the practice?  Move up to their bells.  That's fine and dandy....until those women come back.

It was ridiculous.  Eight hours of rehearsal, and I think they were there for an hour total.  However, we knew that we were not to touch those bells.  At first, I just kept my mouth shut, because I don't like cattiness and rudeness.  However, the sweetest woman in our treble quartet (who also happens to be the newest) was horrified at the thought of not being able to practice.  There was nothing we could do.

Like I said before, these kinds of women are the types who give us women a bad rap.  I can't imagine any kind of man doing this.  After the majority of the rehearsal was over, and we still hadn't practiced with a full set of bells, I knew I had to give up my bad feelings.  It wasn't doing anything but ruining the day for me.

So I did.

And the rest of the day, and the end performance, was great fun.  However, I was reminded that we aren't in Ireland anymore, Toto.

St. Dunstan Handbell Choir.  I love these peeps.  The greatest laugh was seeing Alex (third from left) who plays the largest, biggest bass bells (some of which weigh 18 pounds) run and get the teeniest, tiniest bell we have (about seven ounces).


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