My Ego is My Friend!

One evening last week, my wife seemed to want to have a conversation. After dinner, we moved into the living room to talk where we could be more comfortable.

"Jim," that's my name, "You're going to hear about this sooner or later, and you might as well hear it from me."

That was an eyebrow raising way of starting a conversation.

"Our sister-in-law, Susanna, told your brother today, that she was going to take a week's vacation with a man who she works with. She says it's an exciting trip that she just can't pass up. So she wants him to give her a hall pass."

I was stunned, although I was relieved that it wasn't MY wife, telling me right to my face, that she was going to run off and cheat with another man.

"Your brother told her that it was unacceptable; that he would not allow her to cheat on him like that. She gave him the usual rationalizations for how it would improve their marriage; how it wasn't really cheating, and that if he would just keep his little ego under control, this would be nothing more than a short break in their marriage, and she would return to be an even better wife to him."

As soon as she mentioned my sister-in-law, Susanna, telling my brother to keep his 'little ego' under control, I spaced out into a memory from years before. Before I met my wife, when I was taking college classes, and in a relationship with a woman who I thought would be the love of my life. My soulmate, my one-and-only.

I'm Jim Handel, spelled just like the famous composer, but alas, not related.

I was not trying for a regular degree in college; I was just taking classes that would help in my musical career. Nor was I trying to become a world-famous musician -- I really didn't have some of the tools, like large or very fast, flexible hands for piano. On the other hand, I was, even then, making my living as a musician. That meant a lot of different little jobs, and always looking for new things to do for the almighty dollar.

There were two churches that I played for each Sunday. They held services at different times. One, I played traditional church music on an organ, and the other where I played on a keyboard with a Christian 'band' that played up-to-date Christian rock. That was a lot of fun.

I also accompanied choir practice at the more traditional church in the middle of the week. The Christian Rock group rehearsed together on a different evening. I accompanied voice and instrumental students at the college. A lot of small things, making about $25/hour, which was pretty good money for a musician, just 20 years old, who hadn't even finished a degree! I wasn't working 40 hours a week, but at my rate, I could afford not to.

But some of my biggest money makers were playing bassoon (I played all the woodwinds except oboe; but bassoon was what paid best) and making a circuit of 45-minute musical appearances at over-55-year-old adult communities and independent living facilities.

I didn't charge a fee for those performances; I just took tips. I also sold CD's of the music that I performed as well as other pre-recorded sets of piano music. I had hundreds of pieces recorded in my home studio, both piano and synthesizer. I could sound like a solo piano or like an orchestra.

Those CDs cost me about 50 cents to make (labels and cases. Included), and I sold them for $10! I created new ones for every time I made my circuit, usually four times a year. I had a group of followers who bought one of each of them when a new one was available.

Enough about how I struggled to scratch a living in music. How did I meet the expected love of my life?

It was at the college.

I was playing bassoon with the orchestra (I wasn't paid directly by the college, but they covered all my fees for classes and provided me with a quality bassoon to use.) The piece that we were playing was an original composition by one of the music faculty, a piece that would be played once at the concert, and most likely never again! But then I changed hats. I was playing the Grieg piano concerto for the orchestra to practice with; for the actual performance they were bringing in a semi-well-known young pianist who had won one piano competition or another. Granted, I was playing with music, not from memory, but I was also accustomed to following the conductor since I normally played with the orchestra.

The concert was a success, and as I predicted, the original piece by Dr. Theory (I'll allow him his anonymity) was played for the first, and as far as I know, last time. It wasn't really that bad; it was just not an especially memorable work. A stronger melody would have helped.

But the fun was when the guest pianist played the Grieg.

His playing was exquisite, but he was often a little out of sync with orchestra. He just needed more experience playing along with a conductor, not just playing on his own. It wasn't a disaster, but people in the audience could hear it.

Oddly, the conductor had asked me to hang around backstage during with my copy of the concerto during the performance. He claimed that he wanted me to write a critique of the performance. I suspected that he was worried that our guest performer might collapse and then I would be there to step in. Everything went well enough though.

I was also invited to the post-performance party held at the college President's mansion.

That was when Jane, the first chair violinist, also known as the Concertmistress, approached me.

To be honest, I didn't think that Jane even knew who I was. I don't think that she had looked my way twice. First, she was a beautiful redhead with blue eyes and a trim figure, and she had never needed my services as an accompanist because her well-known violin teacher would usually play for her when she needed an accompanist. Second, I was in awe of her skill with her violin. I didn't usually attend student concerts, but I did hers. She was destined for one of the major orchestras. Perhaps not as a famous soloist, but good enough to play in the first chair section.

"We would have been better off if you had played, instead of the dufus who they brought in."

I was a bit startled by her observation.

"Well, he needs more experience. He's probably played by himself for years, and accommodating yourself to a large group isn't easy for someone who hasn't done it before. That may explain why he is playing with our college orchestra and not one of the major symphony orchestra's, to get a little seasoning."

She smiled, "That's very generous of you to say. But the school could have saved some money and gotten a better concert by having you play." Then she laughed.

We ended up talking together for the rest of the party (despite several men from the orchestra who approached us trying to horn in and get her attention) and after things broke up, we made our way to one of the 24-hour cafes that were in the college neighborhood.

From then onward, Jane and I were a couple, an exclusive couple. While I don't harp on it, we had an active and varied sex life. I had enough experience to know that Jane was a sexual woman, open and desirous, and who enjoyed our joining's as much as I did.

We were so much more. We became a duet. Jane joined with me playing for my circuit of performances, and we recorded our duets in my studio. We split the money (what college student doesn't need a few dollars more) which meant, to be honest, I was getting a smaller share as a percent, but with my beautiful redhead violinist we were making more in total, both in tips and sales of CDs. We were also getting requests to play for events and parties that I hadn't been doing before. We were a team in every way. We would be making a bundle on social media these days.

Of course, we both played and worked independently as well. Sometimes we would both be playing with professional orchestras, other time, I might be playing and Jane not, and vice versa.

My epiphany came one evening when my beloved Jane asked me to meet her at a pizza place, we often frequented (remember, poor students.)

After we had eaten, she took both of my hands in hers and began the sales pitch.

She wasn't breaking up with me, she told me, she just needed some time to explore other people. It would do us both good, and we would be better than ever. I agreed, didn't I?

I suspect that in her mind, this meant that SHE would try out other men, while I sat at home pining for her and NOT exploring other women.

I argued my points back; I didn't think that any good would come from her going off and dating other people, and to my mind that would end our relationship. If we weren't going to be exclusive, then there was no longer an 'us', just a 'me' and 'you.'

At sometime during our 'discussion', meaning her telling me what she was going to do, inevitably came the line, "Don't let your delicate little ego force us to split up. I'll come back and still be there for you."

As soon as she told me not to let my 'little' ego interfere with her plan for the future, I went silent. Then I excused myself and left. Thank god we weren't living together, so I could go back to my place by myself.

When I thought about what she had said, my internal alarm bells were going off to high heaven.

Keep my little ego in check? Indeed!

What is a person's ego? It is their self-image; the way that they see themselves, their skills, their strengths, their very being. In my case, I saw myself for what I was; an adequate musician with more hustle than most of my contemporaries. A decent looking guy, who had never had a lack of women in my life (most of the time, like Jane, women would initially approach me; I never pursued them. Pursuing a woman was almost always a losing strategy.) I was making a decent living and seemed to have enough social graces to pass in any company.

It raised the question for me: why was I supposed to accept Jane damaging and diminishing MY ego, in order that she could enhance hers? My ego was a self-defense mechanism. My ego was the voice that let me argue for my point of view when I thought I was right.

Heck, I sometimes argued with the orchestra's conductor when I thought he was getting the tempo wrong, or when he thought that the bassoon was supposed to come in, when, by my count, we still had a measure of rest.

My ego let me take a stand on things both big and small. But my ego was also sturdy enough that if I was corrected and had been mistaken, I accepted the correction and moved on.

By the time that I went to bed that night (went to bed, not to sleep for a long while), Jane had tried to call a couple of times, but I just let them go to the answering machine without listening to them. I always kept the volume on the machine low, and often completely off so when calls came in during times when I was giving lessons, they wouldn't interrupt.

I didn't know if she had indeed followed through and gone out with whoever she had in mind. I had, by that time, lost any curiosity about it. Maybe it was telling that I was more worried about who I would get to replace her when I started my next round of performances at the old folk's communities. I had about three weeks to find her replacement and get together for enough rehearsals to put on a satisfactory performance. In addition, to really make money, I needed to have time to put together music on my DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) and turn out some CDs!

By the next morning I had my solutions ready.

I knew a flautist who was, like me, always scrambling for money. She was a great flute player and very quick to pick up new music. On top of that, the flute is a 'C' based instrument just like the violin and played in roughly the same range. I wouldn't even have to adjust or rearrange the music we were going to play.

The flute player I had in mind was named Monique, and she answered the phone when I called. At least she knew who I was. I told her that I had a potential music deal to make, if she was interested. She was.

We met at lunch at a small café not far from the music building of the college. All the music majors knew where it was. We got there a bit before the lunch rush.

I explained what I was doing and why I wanted her to play with me. We would do two to three little recitals a week at the places on my list, which meant about eight weeks playing the same music, then a couple of weeks off, and then repeating the cycle, with a different repertoire. I told her what I expected to do as far as money went for the performances, and then offered her a share of the CD sales. We would split the money at the venue, and she would get a share of the CD purchases. Not a split this time; I was doing most of the non-musical work, setting up our little soirées, recording/engineering/producing the CDs and arranging the music we would play. I was entitled to a larger share.

I mentioned that were often little side gigs that we might get, if we could schedule the time.

Then she turned to me, "Isn't Jane going to be pissed that I'm playing with you and not her?"

I pretended to think about it, "Not really. We've played together for a while, but I think it is time for a change up. You know, a chance to give the audience a different sound. Keep from getting boring."

I reminded her about how it seemed like rock bands were always splitting up, bringing in new players, changing the band's sound. We were just doing the same sort of thing.

I'm not sure she swallowed the story completely, but it seemed to satisfy her.

I had already arranged seventeen new pieces to record, so we recorded them, but with flute instead of violin. I did the limited sound engineering that the music needed and got the CD's ready for sale.

Monique was very quick and hardly needed any practice to sound wonderful with her flute. Somehow, she could also 'flirt' with the audience as she played, and everyone loved her bubbly personality.

In case you were wondering, there was nothing between me and Monique. She had a boyfriend, a nice guy who played trumpet, who tried to always be at the venues we played. He just loved hearing her play.

In fact, later, I arranged a number of pieces to play with trumpet, sometimes trumpet with organ, or harpsichord, piano, or even orchestra (all produced on my synthesizer) and I hired him to play for performances. He and I made two CDs together, and I gave him the same deal I had with Monique.

Nevertheless, I'm back playing at my regular list of locations. I think that it was after the second or third performance, when, after we were wrapping up and putting our instruments/equipment away, that I looked up to see Jane standing there.

"I see it didn't take you long to replace me," she said, her voice not quite loudly angry, but irritated.

"Hello, Jane," I replied, not really answering her statement. I expected that was rhetorical in any case.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" I asked.

"Yes, the performance was fine, but...' she replied.

"Okay. Now if you want to talk more, let's go someplace other than the lobby of an over-55 retirement community!" I laughingly stated. "How about the coffee place across the street?"

"Fine," she said with that tone that women reserve that meant it clearly wasn't fine.

We both drove (separately) to the local coffee place. I'd been there before and thank god it was a stand-alone place, not one of the 10,000 locations of the big brand. I liked their coffee better anyway. The beans were fresh roasted there on site.

I ordered a medium roast coffee, black, for myself and paid for Jane's frou-frou chai latte as well, knowing that it would most likely be the last time I ever bought her anything.

"So," I asked once we had seated ourselves, "what was it you were saying?"

"I said that you hadn't wasted any time replacing me, since you walked off in the middle of our last conversation."

"Ah. Yes. Well, you know that substituting a flute for a violin isn't really difficult. Both instruments are in the key of C, and the ranges are very close..."

"That was not what I was talking about, and you know it! I mean that you've ghosted me and found a new girlfriend, and you did it so quickly that I wonder if you weren't seeing her even before you walked out on me."

"Oh my, oh my. Do we have a little bit of projection there?" I laughed again.

"Monique is NOT my girlfriend. In fact, if you had watched as she was leaving, you would have seen her boyfriend's arm around her shoulder as they passed, not more than ten feet away from you.

"So that leaves my substituting a flute for your violin to consider. I must apologize, though. I should have emailed or texted you to let you know I was changing up to have a different sound for a while. I just didn't want to have an argument with you.

"I will continue to pay you your share on the remaining CD's that you played on as I sell them. Just FYI, there aren't many of them left. Monique isn't getting nearly as much per CD because I realized how much of the process of turning live music into a CD I wasn't being paid for."

I could see that Jane was getting red in the face as I explained things to her.

"I don't CARE about the money. I care about US!" she exclaimed.

"I'm not sure what you mean? I told you at the time that if you started going out with other men that would end the 'us' and it would become you and me. I'm not sure if it would make a difference, but have you gone out with the man or men who you were so keen on seeing?"

She didn't reply, but her eyes looking at the table and not at me, gave me my answer.

"Okay. So why are we talking at all?" I asked her, truly curious.

"Well, we should still be seeing each other. Just because I need to satisfy my curiosity doesn't mean we have to split up. I know your ego is probably hurt because I didn't want to be completely exclusive, but that doesn't mean that we've really lost anything in our relationship."

I imagine that if my eyes could bulge out like a cartoon character, they would have at her delusional little speech.

"So, today you were counting on the 'forgiveness is easier to get than permission' sort of ploy." I chuckled a little at my own wit.

I sat there, quiet, for a moment while I took another long sip of my coffee and considered my reply. Jane sat there quiet as well, knowing that her admission to 'dating' other men was honest, but not favorable.

"After you laid your position down to me, I left and went back to my place to consider just what you were saying. I know that much of what you were saying involved intentions; at the end of the day though, it isn't intentions, but actions that speak the truth. I think that economists call that 'revealed preferences.'

"I consulted with my ego, that you think so poorly of, and by the next morning I had come to some conclusions.

"The problem wasn't that my ego was so delicate or too sensitive; the problem was YOUR ego was overblown and arrogant. I think that word for it is 'egotistical'. Well, that and narcissistic.

"Your expectation was that you could get away with anything because you had me cowed. Alas, I must admit, that I was in part at fault; I had spoiled you. I had offered you more than you had earned of my affection as well as the fruits of my musical insights and labor.

"Now, I am the first to admit that you are an excellent violinist. But you were always replaceable. There are at least a dozen other fiddle players in the music department who could fill your shoes. The music we were playing just isn't that difficult. You are aware of why I chose you to play with; you were not just a fine violinist, but a beautiful woman who I thought was a potential spouse. A soulmate.

"But you, sitting me down and treating me like a child who would accept your behavior without complaint, was over the top. My ego told me something else; I am just a better person than you. I'm more loyal, I'm kinder, I'm more considerate, and I'm just as good a musician. Certainly more versatile.