I almost can’t walk into the Christchurch School of Music ‘cause there’s a whole new language to learn, new values, new culture. Mumsie links her arm around mine like she’s real proud of me and to every old lady greeting her at the door she goes, ‘Helloooo, Dorothy, how ARE you? This is my son; his name’s Winston and he has the voice of an AINgel.’
‘Muuum,’ I go. ‘Can you seriously not talk me up?’
Mumsie tugs me into a room and I’m blasted with cultural s**t that could be straight out of a National Geographic. The posters on the noticeboard talk about wind ensembles, and big band and marimba and the ‘Orff-Schulwerk approach to musical education’, whatever that is.
National GeographicNice curtains, amazing sound system, powerful stage lights, polished wood floor, piano with ivory keys a
