A former college roommate who now plays in the bass section of an orchestra you all know wrote a (sadly) unpublished novel about the trials and tribulations of symphony musicians.
One thread in the novel involves the over-the-hill, semi-competent principal cellist who is hated by most of the orchestra for the way he toadies to the megalomaniacal conductor (pardon the redundancy).
In any case, as the plot approaches its denouement, one aspect involves what the other musicians do by way of revenge once they realize that the hated cellist can safely begin his high, exposed solo only by relying on a discreet pencil mark on his fingerboard. An erasable pencil mark. One that looked just like the one that subsequently appeared, a half inch away...
One thread in the novel involves the over-the-hill, semi-competent principal cellist who is hated by most of the orchestra for the way he toadies to the megalomaniacal conductor (pardon the redundancy).
In any case, as the plot approaches its denouement, one aspect involves what the other musicians do by way of revenge once they realize that the hated cellist can safely begin his high, exposed solo only by relying on a discreet pencil mark on his fingerboard. An erasable pencil mark. One that looked just like the one that subsequently appeared, a half inch away...