Fallen Gonad

My family was poor when I was a child and we could not afford much. Instead of a bed time story my dad used to read me the bus schedules!

Isn't life weird. Sometimes it feels like the 'Trueman Show' I was talking to my partner only yesterday about my fears of making a major cock up on a solo. Even though in the 70s I saw Roger Whitaker play an intro on his guitar and then completely forget the words (Do you remember the 70s cabaret shows? Chicken and Chips in a Basket! or was it soup in a basket?)
I remember a well known actor playing the lead in Macbeth at the local Playhouse. He walked on stage on the first night...... and froze. The director had to lead him gently off stage and the show was cancelled.
I have seen mourners stand up to make a eulogy. But the nerves got to them and they could not do it.
Well tonight I was feeling fairly confident ,as my lip felt good. In fact I was thinking to myself ,as I hit the first top 'C' in Embraceable You' ,that all was well.
It should have been a simple thing for my eyes to go from the 1st time bar to the 2nd time bar thus continuing this smooth flowing solo?
Only my eyes decided they would go to the stave above the repeat section.
At this point I knew I was in deep doo doo. You see a great jazzer would probably have saved themselves and bluff like buggery, until they found their correct place in the music.
Me, I just realised that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and at to high a pitch to recover.
So I did the only thing possible.
I said Sh*t 3 times whilst the microphone was live!
Ok, very unprofessional, but it did give me time to find out where the f*** I was in the music and recover to the best of my ability.
I even managed to hit an ad lib top 'D' at the end...............but the damage was done.
As I said to our 3rd bone player. I was going to go home and wear a horse hair vest for the rest of the night, just like the Monk's on a penance.
I also said I would practice for 4 hours well into the night.......
I didn't do any of these things.
In fact I came home , cracked a couple of beers and realised that all the things that I feared about making mistakes ,didn't actually amount to diddly squat.
I cocked up big time.
It's gone and although I can't do anything about it.........it's not changed the world
Has it really taken me over half a century to realise this? Or have I changed so much that I just don't care any more? I prefer the latter as it is so much easier. But then again a Leopard can't change it's spots? (unless it carries a tube of Tippex)