NaBloPoMo Day 2: Cello Hands
We had dinner with Bruce and Bernardo last night at Candle79 on the Upper East. I wish the Candle79 interior looked a little less like your uncle's favorite Italian Japanese fusion place circa 1993. The food is as consistent as the decor, however, which is why we continue to go back.
(Note: Tom disagrees. He says he "likes the decor." Especially the upstairs.)
After we bonded over fountain pens, Bernardo started telling this story about how one time he tried to learn to play the violin. It was not an altogether successful attempt. He wondered if the problem was his violin, so he went into one of the fancy violin stores up by Lincoln Center and had his violin restrung.
The proprietor of this violin store happened to have been some kind of violin virtuoso in his younger days. The Virtuoso was there when Bernardo went to pick up the violin. Bernardo decided to ask him for advice. He explained his problems to the Virtuoso and then paused expectantly, waiting for words of wisdom.
"Let me see your hands," said the Virtuoso.
Bernardo held up his palm.
The Virtuoso shook his head slowly. "I see your problem. You have cello hands."
Bernardo nodded and walked out.
He went home and bought a cello.
(Note: Tom disagrees. He says he "likes the decor." Especially the upstairs.)
After we bonded over fountain pens, Bernardo started telling this story about how one time he tried to learn to play the violin. It was not an altogether successful attempt. He wondered if the problem was his violin, so he went into one of the fancy violin stores up by Lincoln Center and had his violin restrung.
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| credit: Brobst Violin Store |
"Let me see your hands," said the Virtuoso.
Bernardo held up his palm.
The Virtuoso shook his head slowly. "I see your problem. You have cello hands."
Bernardo nodded and walked out.
He went home and bought a cello.
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