So, I was early for my glider – flight instructor lesson. The morning felt cool and the winds were light, so I decided to meander around and see what hangars were open to peek into and who was doing what. There was always some one doing something interesting.
As I strolled along between the hangars, I heard very familiar notes. Someone, an excellent bari-tenor someone, was singing part of the Faure Requiem. I moved as silently as possible and eased closer. The manager of the soaring school was under one of the tow planes, looking at some things and wrapping up an oil change. He was singing a capella, and had no idea that anyone might be around.
A smart pilot would have coughed, or made a noise during one of the pauses. Not I. I eased closer, waited for the appropriate moment, and came in with the soprano line of the “Sanctus,” on pitch and in tempo. He continued for two more phrases before registering that he now had a soprano part that was not just playing between his ears.
The manager almost sat up, then remembered that there was a bright yellow airplane four inches above his head.
It was funny, an hour or so later.