BC: The Violist

There I am eight-years old, $3 in my pocket, nothing in my stomach but the remnants of my last trick. I say to my dealer, "I need to get high," to which he replies, "I got just the thing."

I put out my hands and what does he hand me? I shit you not he hands me a viola.

"A viola" I yell, "how's that going to get me high?"

He looks me in the eye and says, "Just play it son . . . just play it."

So that's how I started playing the viola . . . true story.


Anyway, I work my way up the viola playing ranks and people take notice. I'm kind of a big deal, kids at school know me, I get high-fives, that kind of thing. Anyway, All-State tryouts are up for grabs and they want me to do this Mozart number. I can't do it in warm-ups. I keep saying to myself "you can, you can do it Britt, I know you can, just trust it" but it wasn't happening.

Warm ups are done and I walk in for the real deal and you know what happened? I just start fucking screaming. I swear. I just start yelling and cursing like I have Tourette's and next thing you know I'm belting out this song on my viola. It was wild.

And you know, looking back on it, that's when I knew what my dealer was talking about . . . making All-State Viola was the highest I ever felt.