For some reason, I feel six feet tall today, willowy and all leg. My cello feels tiny. I hefted it through metro turnstiles and (worse) the outside doors to the stations themselves, where the vacuum created by the trains sucks them shut on you, forcing you to struggle to keep them open. Hard at the best of times; nigh impossible when you’re carrying sixteen hundred dollars that could all too quickly become firewood. Today it was easy, though.

I am, however, stuck humming I’m Getting Married In The Morning from My Fair Lady, since I played the Lerner & Loewe medley to bits this morning. I simply cannot get the Camelot section – Lusty Month of May is a cinch, but the actual Camelot theme – it’s a write-off. Fortunately I surge back supremely well with The Night They Invented Champage, thanks to MLG who burst into song in HMV last week when I asked him what show it was from. (You had to be there. No, really.)

There’s hope for me yet.