I got my hair cut yesterday. I think it's about four inches shorter now, and I like it. The purpose of the haircut was largely to eliminate the following exchange from being heard at least thrice daily between myself and FavoriteBoy: "Ow, you're pulling my hair!" "No, I'm not." "Yes, your elbow is leaning on it." Or "Yes, it's caught on the button on your shirt sleeve." Or a dozen other possibilities.
The woman who cut my hair was chatty. Since I was getting my hair cut on a Friday morning around 11:30, it was reasonable for her to ask, "Do you have the day off from work?" When I told her I usually only work in the afternoons, she asked what I did.
"I'm a violinist and a music teacher."
"Oh, wow... do you play in a band or something? I used to play in middle school band."
"Well, I play in several orchestras in the area."
"Do you want to play with the Boston Pops someday?"
"The Pops? Not really... I'd like to play with a symphony, but positions in the big orchestras are really competitive."
"No way... really?" (I've noticed that it's often a shock to people that even though they're not interested in classical music, millions of other people are.)
"Yeah, they hold auditions. For every one seat available there are a lot of people competing for it."
"Oh, I get it. It's like American Idol."
"I guess maybe?
...Except that it takes talent, skill, and years of serious training..."