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michael tilson thomas ages before my eyes

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michael tilson thomas ages before my eyes

Postby abbynormal » Sat Sep 08, 2018 8:44 pm

i dreamt i was in some indeterminate time in the past, perhaps in the 1970s, in a small rehearsal hall/studio, white walls and gymnasium-style blond planked wood floor, barely large enough to contain a pops orchestra and choir on risers off to the side, there were picture windows facing the street on the left, closed shops and storefronts visible opposite, it was dark and rainy outside, little traffic. it had the feeling of a Saturday morning. everybody except the conductor was dressed casually and the conductor was putting this part and that part of the ensemble through its paces, while the musicians who weren't playing their instruments were scampering about, chatting with this person and that. i was sitting on a bench at the rear of the hall watching this all happen, i noted that the conductor, who resembled a more compact and youthful version of the real-life conductor Michael Tilson-Thomas, illuminated in spotlights, and was resplendent in white tie and tails tuxedo, his stylishly long hair immaculately in place, grooming perfect, just aglow. while he was on the podium conducting the strings on a part, he turned around and noticed me in the back, and he waved his baton to tell the violins and such to stop playing, then turned around and walked out towards me, and as he walked he visibly deteriorated and his clothing degenerated into very loose fitting and borderline ragged workman's jeans and off-white work shirt, his face became haggard, hair turned salt and pepper, sunken eyes and pockmarked face with 5 o'clock shadow, and small sores were visible on the skin visible around the clothing, a general diseased air was apparent. he slumped onto the bench besides me and looked weakly at me with a wan smile, and introduced himself. i asked him about his work as a conductor and he quickly corrected me, "No, i'm an Acoustic." i said words to the effect of "Hmmmm, had not heard that job title before," and he said "not a job, an adventure!" with what little cheer he had left in him. :?
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