Day of Rest

This morning my church's choir, and assorted musicians, played/sang Gabriel Fauré's Requiem. If you like spectacular choral/orchestral pieces, you would have loved this. The music program at my church is incredibly strong, with nary a guitar mass to be found. (For the record, this piece is also known as the "Mass for the Dead.")

My little bell group, the Celtic ringers, played three non-Fauré pieces for the prelude to the service.

At our practice just before the service, our bell director, staring directly at me, suggested, in the kindest possible way, that we "practice our decorum." Meaning that, if for instance, say you play 10 wrong notes and then totally lose your place? Try not to grimace, shout sorry, and perhaps it would be best not to utter any curse words before a packed house of oh, 800 or so.

Who, me?

I took many deep breaths and managed not to drop a bell on anyone's head.

Success.

I'm a woman of wide and varied musical tastes.

So Peter, for you, since you asked, here's a look at the late (the group is late, not David) and oh-so-great, ever-so-ironic, brilliant David Byrne and Talking Heads, which the other Peter played just before he played some Stones, sending me head-over-heels into ... a spinfest o' happiness:



(Just be glad I didn't embed Fauré's Requiem.)

(Hint to yesterday's quiz: Yes, it will require an airport.)