Orchestra Duty

Judge Doug Duggerson wearily unzipped his judgely robes, laid his gavel inside his desk, and sat down into his comfortable chair after a long day of judging. He scratched the back of his neck where the robes chafed him, and started to sort through his mail. A bill, another bill. The jury today had been particularly dull. Where did they get these people from? And they all looked so gloomy and unhappy...

He paused and puzzled over a sort of blue envelope he had never seen before. It was sealed tightly shut and marked "OPEN IMMEDIATELY." When he pulled out the letter inside he was surprised to see that the return address was from the local symphony orchestra. He hadn't been to a concert in years, and had never donated any money. Why were they sending him mail?

As he read his face first took an expression of puzzlement, then of wide-eyed disbelief, then shock bordering on laughter. He was being summoned for orchestra duty!

"Mr. Duggerson, please call the orchestra office immediately if you are not a US citizen or are not a resident of this county. You may be permitted to postpone your orchestra service (which requires your commitment to serve at a future time) or, you may be eligible to apply for a deferment. All requests are to be made as soon as possible."

"All musicians must complete all forms below. Please see driving directions attached. When you report, please dress in an appropriate manner. Do not park at a parking meter. A refrigerator and microwave are available if you choose to bring food. All substitute musicians will be paid a total of $80 per service. If you wish to donate your services to the orchestra, please check the box below."

Doug the judge scanned through the document several times looking for a phone number, and eventually found a number with extension for someone called the "personnel manager." He rang the number and got no answer, then hung up before it could go to voicemail. The report date and time was listed as tonight at 8:00--and it was already past 7! He thought for a few moments about blowing the letter of entirely, but then he uneasily remembered the strong language about the penalties that could be imposed if he refused to show up for orchestra duty.

Doug the judge trudged out to his car, fumbled with a map for directions to Orchestra Hall, and then made his way through the thick evening traffic down the expressway and into the heart of downtown. It was just past 8:00 when he arrived the parking garage. He'd circled almost the entire way around Orchestra Hall before he found the musician entrance, and when he went inside he could hardly believe that THIS was what was behind that beautiful stage. There were bare pipes, the sound of hissing steam, and cobwebs dangling down above his head. The lighting was dim, the floor unfinished, and he smelled an ancient stink of unwashed ballet dancers and old tuxedos.

As he made his way through the dark hallway a severe looking woman suddenly appeared and startled him. "You're late!" she hissed "They've already started the first piece! That's going to be a fine off of your paycheck. And you're in the wrong dress too...that will be another fine."

Taken aback by her sudden appearance and harsh voice, Doug stepped back and began to mumble an apology. But before he could get a word out she shoved a old trumpet case into his hand with only one working latch. "Hurry up and get onstage!"

Doug half ran up the steps and by the time he reached the stage door was very much aware that it would be hard to play his instrument while he was out of breath. The applause from the first number died down and he made his way over to the trumpet section. He blushed as he looked down at his clothes, clearly different than the other 80 members of the orchestra. As he sat in the trumpet section, one of the players whispered to him that he'd brought out the wrong trumpet...but it was too late to go back and get another, for the conductor had started the piece.

He completely missed the first trumpet entrance, but to his surprise he recognized the piece...it was Thus Spake Zarathustra, which he'd heard on a hundred soundtracks. As the low strings and organ rumbled by, he remembered vaguely playing some trumpet in high school band and tried to recall some of the fingerings.

All of a sudden there was a tinkling of flutes and high strings, and he saw in the trumpet part that he was supposed to play a perilous looking fanfare. As he counted the rests before his entrance he suddenly became profoundly aware that he would be playing alone, and that every eye in the concert wall was fixed upon him. He looked down at the metal tube in his hand and fear rushed through his whole body. How was he supposed to play such an exact and demanding entrance with any sort of precision when he'd hardly warmed up?

He held up the trumpet and beads of sweat trickled down his face. He looked up into the eye of the sinister face of the conductor, and watched for the cue.

His first note spoke with only a minimal crack, but he could tell as soon as he started playing that there was no chance for the high note. A lower note splatted pathetically, aired out entirely, and then sagged into a comically bad bray.

Looking up out of the corner of his eye, the judge could see audience members looking at him with concern, pointing and whispering. The conductor had turned red with silent fury, and none of the other trumpet players would even look at him. He set the trumpet down on the chair and slinked offstage as quickly as he could, hearing whispers about "amateur" and "never again" as he passed the back row of violins.

The judge awoke with a start in his own bedroom, gasped, and tried to stop his hands from trembling. And then he promised himself that he would never ever ever ever ever ever again summon a musician for jury duty...because they had enough to worry about playing their instruments at the symphony hall.