…the chief protagonist is an ageing composer/conductor who is obsessed with revitalising his failing powers by humiliating, then seducing, young female musicians in his orchestra, even as his wife is having a serious operation.

Okay, it’s an opera plot, but I did laugh.

You can read about it here.

And it goes on:

An egotistical serial-philanderer? Not like any real conductor, then. “Well, I can certainly think of one or two candidates, as I’m sure you can,” Berkeley giggles. “But this is essentially fiction.”

“Essentially fiction” …? But we all know the stories. Right? Funny how quiet we all are about them, though. I guess no one wants to spill the beans. Some of these conductor stories (rumors, to be honest, and I’ve not ever read anything that makes them fact) are pretty awful and actually criminal. Yet no one talks. I don’t know if it’s about job protection, fear of a lawsuit, or just that we are all very good people who don’t like to ruin anyone.

Well, nix that last one. I know, at least, that I’m not that good of a person. (I’m thankful no one can crawl into this brain of mine and hear my frequently awful thoughts. Sometimes I’m horrified by what comes into my head. Sigh.)

I’m not talking about anyone I’m currently working with, nor would I tell you if I was talking about anyone I’ve worked with in the past, so don’t be guessing. And don’t ask me because I won’t tell. We are currently working under Paul Polivnick who is one of my faves, so no, you can’t be thinking he’s one of these scoundrels! (And he sure has done a fabulous job this week, working with us in this somewhat interesting—as in sort of challenging for reasons I won’t go into right now—set.)

But I ramble.

Okay … exhaustion has hit me hard today. With this exhaustion has come sadness. So I’m going to rest and dump the sorrow. A bit of sleep might help. (Meanwhile I’ve put on some sad music because I do tend to wallow in this mood when I’m weary.)

Over and out.