On Sunday we sang a new piece of music: literally, a new piece that had never been performed before. It’s a piece commissioned of Randoll Bass for a chorister who had been in the choir for 56 years.

Let that sink in for a minute. We have not even been alive for 56 years, most of us, and this guy had sung in the same choir for an uninterrupted period of 56 years.

So we took up a collection and commissioned a new anthem in his honor. Whenever we sing it, we will think of him. It’s a nice piece, too.

Then tonight in rehearsal I picked up a new piece we were singing and saw that it had been written by my kids’ old choir teacher and arranged by another local guy I used to sing with. Or else it was an amazing coincidence.

“Is this our local boys?” I asked.

People wondered and speculated. Then we opened the piece and saw that it was dedicated “to my lovely wife, Brenda.” I knew his wife, Brenda, and she was indeed lovely. Probably still is.

This was the tipping point beyond which I could no longer believe it was a coincidence. Google confirms that the piece was indeed written by our home boys, and also that it was sung in the White House when President Clinton was in office. Beautiful music.

And all of us, when we sing it, will be thinking of Brenda, or at least of the guys who wrote it. Isn’t that nice?

At one point in rehearsal our director asked the basses, “Basses, how you will find that note for your entrance on page 5?”

A voice rang out confidently: “Dennis.”

This is the name of one of our basses, a very fine singer. The director didn’t agree, exactly.

“While you’re not wrong,” he said, “you can find it in the accompaniment in the previous measure, and then you won’t have to wait for Dennis to sing it.”

He has a point.It’s one thing to think of someone as the inspiration for the song, and another thing entirely to have to wait for someone to sing before you come in.