Everything falls apart; you can count on that

Oh, come on.

I’ve been snakebit lately, it seems. Two weeks ago, an organ broke while I was playing it. One week ago, an organ broke while I was playing it.

Good news: last weekend, I did not break an organ. Bad news: for the third weekend in a row, there was a malfunction.

This time, I was playing the Gloria at a different parish from the first two misfortunes. Their piano is being repaired, because it’s been fussy since it was put in. So they had an electric keyboard filling in, with one of those cheap plastic music stands attached.

I think you know where this is going.

Yes, the music stand decided to fall off with about a quarter of the Gloria left. It, of course, made a loud noise. Everyone stared.

I smiled, shrugged my shoulders, and muscle-memoried my way through the rest of the Gloria. Then the cantor and I got out a real music stand to use the rest of Mass.

I told this story to my parents that evening, when I stopped over for dinner.

“Well, this should be the end of it, right?” my mom asked, noting the old adage that bad things can happen in threes.

We can only hope, mom. We can only hope.

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