A “basshead.”
“Oh. Okay, okay. That’s a bad label.”
“I know!”
“Yes, but I will not let that change my mind.”
“Yes, I did.”
“…Then I’ll give you what you need. I want this job for my family. And I want my husband to think of me this way.”
“Hurry, hurry,” I said. “Tell me what it is, and I’ll give it to you.”
I was in his office. He was my boss. And though my work was done for the moment, I felt it was really important to get some work in.
“I’ve got a question,” he said. “Is your husband a “jack of all trades”?”
“What do you mean?”
“Jack of all trades, of course. Jack of the kitchen? Jack of carpentry? Jack of painting? Jack of plumbing? Jack of roofing? Jack of woodworking? Jack of carpentry. Jack of woodworking. Jack of carpentry, jack of painting, and plumbing. But are you calling him a jack of bass?”
And I nodded.
“Yes,” he said.
“Okay.”
It really did help him hear me.
We talked about it for a while, and then I took a seat and listened. He didn’t have a lot of patience with me. There wasn’t really anything I could add to his repertoire like I was used to: I think I tried to add the piano part once or twice, and that wasn’t very effective. I remember his expression when I asked him about his love of music.
“If I could listen to my mind every day, I would be able to play a tune much like it,” he said.
“You know the way he sings, too?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“How about the way he plays bass?”
“How?” he said. “I don’t know how to make any music, you know?”
I was having a hard time explaining to him all the things I didn’t understand.
“I don’t understand why you’d do that,” he said. “But, I mean, it is what you do sometimes.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because it works.”
I thought that was probably true