Grumpy people

Voting in Florida is a bit complicated. First you have to show a picture I.D., and sign a sheet affirming your address and identity. That enables you to receive a “chit” which you take to another desk. You sign that “chit” and then receive a ballot to complete for the optical scanner.

The woman ahead of me at that second desk was displeased. She had been handed a felt tip pen to sign her name, and she let it be known in no uncertain terms that she hated felt tips, and that no-one would ever recognise her signature..

The volunteer clerk was a cheerful as a person could be, but despite all his efforts, the woman was determined to be displeased.

I bit my tongue, and when my turn came, I told the volunteer that I liked felt tips. It was a bold face lie. I am a fountain pen man, but I wanted to encourage him in his good cheer.

“Why”, I wondered, “would a person get so bent out of shape about a pen”? “What about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan?” I There’s something about which I get grumpy!

Last evening I was with my friend Ben Morse at a concert given by the Florida West Coast Symphony Orchestra. I loved every minute. After an overture by Rossini, a 19 year old woman was the soloist in the marvelous Mendelssohn Violin Concerto.

I know if a soloist is bad. What I do not know is if that soloist is good, fabulous or brilliant. Ne’er mind. I was entranced.

The intermission came and the woman to my right asked “What did you think?”. “I loved it”, I replied, “I was almost in tears”.

She frowned. “Tears?” she asked. “Yes” I said, “this is the first time I’ve ever heard the concerto live”

Discretion being the better part of valour I asked for her opinion. “I thought that she (the soloist)”, came the reply “was a bit weak”.

Not ready for an argument I took myself outside for a cigarette. A couple passed me. The man said “that Mendelssohn piece has no melody”. His wife told him that it was filled with wonderful melodies. “Well, I did not hear them” he said.

It turned out that a newspaper critic had said of the Friday night performance that the soloist was weak. That’s where my seat companion had gotten her unshakable view!

I can be grumpy at times. But I try to be of good cheer.

I am glad to be able to vote, whether or not I like the pen.

And I loved being at a Symphony Concert.

Why should we in these United States be so fortunate, and yet so ungrateful?

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