We stepped on the stage, we were questioned about the songs we intended to play, we were told that yes, this one goes, we would like you not to sing the other one because it doesn?t fit the overall atmosphere, but, yet, get ready to play it

if necessary, if we have to make the show last a bit longer. ?I think it would be better for you to play without the glasses? says the director, leaving me speechless. That was because my dioptres are quite severe and I had no chance to get around in the semidarkness on the stage. ?Do I really have to? That is, couldn?t we solve it some other way, I mean, there is no problem but I can?t see anything? ?- ?It is better my way, Călin. Please. Is it impossible?? ?No? ?, I stammered, I?ll try to get the job done without the glasses.? ?We?ll draw the way you have to move around in chalk.? ??Well, what do you mean move along? Aren?t we playing seated??- ?No,no? the director gets worked up again, ?this show is a bit more complex than a concert. That is, you don?t simply enter the stage, play and then, good-bye, you leave the stage. No. You shall see, there is a bit of staging, you will have pre-established paths you will have to follow, then you play and you will keep on staying on the stage till the actors finish reciting the last lines.?

We started getting nervous. All of us. The way that guy spoke to us, as if the destiny of the entire human kind depended on the way we were going to move on the stage- gave way to insecurity and to a state of excitement we had never felt before. Obviously, we had to let all that out. The chance, bad luck for the director, made it that the moment of our liberation occurred during the show. One which was meant to be sombre by all means. We were going to face again that type of sobriety in years, during some pathetic shows, organized by the Army?s Culture House and where, together with a few actors, we used to rattle our instruments in order to pay homage to Eminescu.

A few minutes before the beginning of the ?Pite?ti Phenomenon? they once again specified our tasks. I was supposed to do the opening of the show. I was a kind of trumpeting angel who, with a whistle on the corner of the mouth, had to cross the dark stage and afterwards, with a few musical notes, had to sit in the background between Tibi and Adi. These two were hidden for the moment. One was crouched in the improvised barrow and the other was solemnly counting the seconds, with his feet stuck up to his knees in the porcelain lavatory. Two projectors made them visible precisely when I was supposed to get up on my ear. After the lights were on, Jean, the last of us, was going to enter the stage, with the guitar in his shoulder belt, and he was supposed to give Adi a ride across stage in the barrow. That was what the director had in mind. From then on we had green light to do our musical bit.