that slow deep burn of pride in your stomach and chest.
happened about 3 times so far...

one time much like the chaps further down at the last brass concert I performed at (had to quit because of capita problems) I was called up for a solo, The Ploughboy (I was an Eb Bass player) I play it without a fault and decidedly take the octave higher route at the end, once again flawless. I take my bow and head for my seat when my condctor comes over to me and passes me a moleste award trophy, and then listened to ten minutes of why people are going to miss me.

another time waking up in a moors with the warm sun heating my face, on a slab of warming limestone, and watching a incredibly hot lady pass by on a horse me being about 30 ft above on this slab of limestone, and walking with her to her stables. Never saw her again unfortunately.

oh and when climbing... hanging on an overhand on one arm and realising all my pro had fallen out otehr than a cam/friend near the base. When I made the manouvre and missed the moment of realisation and panic as my arm found a pocket and kept me hanging. Phew.

Apologies for length/sexiness
( GrandmaOfShoes, Fri 11 Mar 2005, 15:24, Reply)