How not to be a sore loser.

Saucy99 has just inspired me to relate a very embarassing moment so that she will feel better about her faux pas of hier soir. Mind you, it wasn�t I who suffered this embarassing moment, and I was not even there for it. I just heard about it afterwards and laughed my head off. So I retell it here for all of your entertainment, and to let Saucy99 know that she does not have a monopoly on embarassing moments.

Many, many years ago Hubby submitted an orchestral composition to a famous and prestigious Canadian new-music festival and competition which at that time was sponsored by a tobacco company. His piece made it to the finals, which meant that he had to travel many thousands of kilometres to the city where the festival took place to attend all the festivities, including the concert where the finalists received a public performance and prizes were awarded.

Five compositions were played on that particular concert, which was broadcast live-to-air on our illustrious CBC. I myself was at home with small children and listened rapt as the announcer made up stuff to fill the airwaves. Hubby�s piece was by far the best piece in the competition. This isn�t just my opinion, but his fellow competitors thought this way, as did one of the jurists, a very famous new-music-performing soprano who had travelled from Jolly Old England to sit on the panel. Unfortunately, all her protestations were in vain, because the decision had been made earlier, in her absence, as how the prizes were to be allotted. Hubby did not win. A young woman of immigrant parentage was granted the laurels, and the sizeable prize money that went along with it. Hubby and a young composer friend of his got 2nd and 3rd prize respectively and received nicely-framed certificates attesting to their participation in the event.

The winner�s parents were on hand, and being generous souls who had no idea that the losers were sore, took everyone out to dinner. Hubby and his co-loser friend drank copious amounts of alcohol, and I believe continued their partying in the hotel bar when they got back from the restaurant. By the time they were ready to take the elevator up to their floor, they were both incredibly pissed drunk. Coming out of the elevator, Hubby turned to his friend with the framed certificate and said very loudly, �What the fuck am I supposed to do with this piece of shit?� At that moment, he noticed the representative of the tobacco company sponsor who had in fact given him the certificate standing in the hallway. Hubby marched right up to him and said, exhaling alcohol fumes, �I think it would go really nicely on my office wall, don�t you?�

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