I'm Roy, first timer to this page, first brush with cancer. If I wanted (as I do) to attach a 1-page Word doc (as I er... maybe do) right to you, how do I get it to you?

Unusual Musicians
1

This poem is old, and originally had just one line, the second one. In the Chinese language, it means the same as ”don’t cast pearls before swine”. This version and image are all mine.
There are several versions of my poem, one - not shown here – says it’s most important to have a different kind of musician, so that the cows and oxen can enjoy the music freely. My version here says they are music lovers, this version says they are happy inside.
I was sitting in a Chinese audience in HangZhou, by the famous Westlake, waiting for a medieval opera concert to begin, when the conductor walked slowly past. He spoke to me, as I suspected he might, foreigners being a bit rare outside on a damp Sunday. He took my poem (I thought he might do that too). And read it.
“Zege nide? (this yours?)”
“Dui”
“Deng yi xia (wait a moment)”.
He turns back to the stage, walks to the percussion stand, picks up the orchestra percussion sticks, bows and offers them to me.
“Today you will play percussion for us...”
He didn’t know, and I know he didn’t know, that playing percussion in a Daoist orchestra was the very top of my bucket list. It’s an untrodden path, dissonant but relevant to the action. There’s no score, it’s all empathy and drama. While they were singing, the singers said they would lock eyes with me so I caught every nuance.
He beckoned, I followed. Up on stage, the band nodded to me, the leader bowed, the singers – ah, the singers – curtseyed together in a soft Chinese way, and in a very few seconds we were off. Me first... For the next two hours, reported on local TV, the whole works.
The question now arises, why do I tell you this as my opening topic? What do you know about me so far?
Nothing?