The inside of a violin is a magical place. A silent, holy hall with skylights in its vaulted roof. The curved walls and the bare floor, the maker’s tag a rug in one corner. A brilliant photographer for the Berlin Philharmonic captured the resting glory of this chamber of sound. See.
Yesterday, I played my violin for my church as a sort of farewell since I am moving again. Since the zippers and clasps can be noisy in reverent moments, I did what I always do and got the violin and the stand and the music all set up well before worship began. I left it in the back, unattended. I can only assume that is how the BUG got in.
Yes, when I opened my case today, there was a huge and hideous BUG of the family of YUCK and the genus of GAH calmly sitting beside the shoulder of my Sleeping Beauty (aka, super loud obnoxiously high noise maker).
I’ve heard stories about bugs and violins. All of them involve the bugs eating the violins and/or the bow. Steeling myself, while shrieking, I rescued my violin and my bow and threw the case and the bug onto my brother’s porch. He can deal with the interloper when he gets home from work.
Panting and shivering, I reached for my violin when suddenly it occurred that the bug Might Not have Been Alone. What if this wasn’t a scout, but an invasion? What if my all of tranquility and harmony was Infested? What if the hoards of vileness had come to stay!?
I hid in the bathroom and called my mother. She says I have to put some pants on and confront my violin. She says I should shake the violin and listen for any exoskeletal buzzing. Then, if there is none, all is well. If there is, I should flee the scene, go to the movies and wait for my brother to come home and turn the evil ones out.I think I’ll do what she says.
Any minute now…any minute…