Those Liberal Kids

Nearly as soon as I joined the veterans’ band, I had a dinnertime conversation with an exceptionally loquacious saxophone player, whose lips become all the more loose the more wine he sips. Though I was sober, I take after my father as argumentative and a little pedantic — we were matched. Being musicians, our first concern was music.

We started our discussion by arguing about the finer plot points of My Fair Lady — mainly, was it in character for Prof. Higgins to “fall in love” with Miss Doolittle? I submit that it was not, considering that’s what an annoyed George Bernard Shaw believed — and we kept talking music from there. He told me the story about a recalcitrant daughter and her horrible taste in music; he talked about his collection of music, and how he has excellent taste in music.

I wanted to test his assertion, and add a fair share of jazz and baroque to my iTunes. We arranged a handoff of my hard drive sometime in the next month.

At the next rehearsal, of course, I forgot to bring my hard drive. He said:

You liberals are all the same. You’re always doing stuff like that.

I laughed, because not only am I not a liberal, that was a pretty obtuse assumption — because I’m young, and, by implication, foolish, I’m a liberal? Because I reneged on the deal, I’m a liberal? I wasn’t offended, but I took it he meant it as a playful insult, but an insult nonetheless, so I remembered.

What should happen on the next rehearsal but he forgets to bring back my hard drive?

You liberals are all the same. You’re always doing stuff like that.

He laughed — eventually. I will, however, remember forever the expression of shock and awe on that existed on his face for a just few split seconds.

Believe-you-me, he did not like them apples.


  1. 1 Those Liberal Kids, Postscript « Off the Tenure Track

    […] 14, 2008 in The Way It Were At the veterans’ band concert today, our favorite saxophone player told me that he remembered my external hard drive, this time, now with a complete copy of his music […]




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