So that was 24 years ago. Then last month I got a feeler for interest via a colleague from the Episcopal church in Decatur, which is 30 miles away. I interviewed with the rector and organist at the end of last month, auditioned with their small choir on the second of this one, got the job, and am now almost about to receive my second paycheck from them.
Never thought I'd see the day and, 24 years later, the day is here again. Not sure why I did it but am glad I did. It is most unlikely that I will have any mountain top aesthetic experiences with them: they are quite small (SATB = 5, 4, 4--2 women among them--, 3, when they are all there, that is, which has yet to happen in the 5 rehearsals and 3 services I have done with them); and they are of varied musical and vocal skill--from adept to, well, ahem. . . But as my buddy said, 'being a church musician is better than being a street musician,' and as daughter Meggie said when I told her about it, 'you've already had plenty of mountain top experiences, Dad. You've made your bones with that mob.'
And she's right, I have. (Though I made up the part about mob bones and ascribed them to her).
Besides, the rector is a great young man and a brief sermonizer--he'll go far; the soon-to-be-grizzled organist is talented and a very funny man--he's already gone far; and the choir has an assistant organist/librarian/female tenor/factota who is extremely helpful to this veteran of so many non-liturgical churches. Well, four of them. This is my fifth church job.
But the main thing for me is the wonderful people: devoted, willing to work, kind, and funny (though not many are all of the foregoing in one package, but who cares? I ain't, either). They are, all in all, a delightful group that manages to laugh at my humor, follow my instructions to the best of their abilities, remain patient with my few digressions, and stay true to my few rigid laws. And while I doubt that I will dip very far into my reserve of conducting skills, I am still quite a good teacher and it feels good to be employing those skills on a regular basis once again. I'm pleased that they hired me and are willing to tolerate me for awhile. I hope to give them some musical/vocal skills, personal satisfaction and a little joy in my time with them.
***
To end is to begin: I'm going to end my career the way I started it. That's true of the human being too, of course: we begin unable to walk and end the same way, relying on 'conveyances to carry us where our skinny shanks no longer can.' (Thomas Wolfe: Of Time and The River)
Jesus. That's depressing. But so was Thomas Wolfe: an incandescent talent who burned himself out in booze and depression at 37, I think. He was the subject of a novel, forget the title and author, but his famous editor, Maxwell Perkins, was also in that novel. Someone look it up, OK? I don't feel like it. I'm going to give myself over to a bit of depression but not booze.
You know the only thing I don't like about being a church musician again? I can't wear my academic gown in the service. Nossir. I have to wear a cassock and that pussy white surplice. With a cross around my neck. Makes me feel and look like a devout neutered peacock.
So I'll just attempt to strut down the aisle with my feathers folded, come Sundays. And avoid screeching.


