Op-Ed: A Royal Review of the Pied Piper’s Sanford Soirée
By Her Majesty, The Queen
One grows ever so weary of the endless parade of mediocre minstrels and jugglers that infest the cultural calendar of lesser towns. Imagine then my surprise when I deigned to attend an evening at the historic Ritz Theatre in downtown Sanford, Florida and found myself confronted with an entertainment of startling merit, the much whispered performance of the Pied Piper.
From the moment he stepped upon the stage, pipe in hand, it was evident that Sanford would never again hear its equal. His mastery of tone was sublime, his phrasing exquisite, and dare I say almost regal. Even my mirror, ever honest though often tiresome, admitted that the Piper’s melodies held a charm nearly worthy of my own beauty. I myself have trained court musicians for decades and few could summon such precision while maintaining an air of effortless command.
Yet the true stroke of genius was not merely the Piper’s artistry, but the corps de ballet he conjured forth, those nimble mice. What a delightful, if rustic, innovation. Each rodent twirled with such astonishing synchronicity that one could almost believe they had rehearsed under the chandeliers of a royal ballroom rather than in the dark corners of a provincial cellar. Their pirouettes were, of course, modest by courtly standards, but one must applaud the sheer audacity of recruiting vermin into so elegant a tableau. I half expected seven dwarfs to come clattering in with their picks and lanterns, so provincial was the air of the crowd, but the mice performed with far more grace than such common folk could ever muster.
The Ritz Theatre itself, I concede, provided a surprisingly dignified setting. Its gilded proscenium lent a shimmer of majesty to the proceedings, though the audience, in their regrettably humble attire, left something to be desired. Honestly, if one intends to witness art of this caliber, might one at least wear silk. Unlike certain apples I have been known to offer, the Piper’s performance was not bitter but sweet indeed.
Still, I found myself tapping my slipper, yes mine, quite against my will. Even the most imperious heart cannot entirely resist the Piper’s spell. For a dreadful moment I feared he himself might be proclaimed fairer than I, but happily that disaster did not come to pass. Indeed, I might almost confess, were I the sort to confess, that I enjoyed myself.
In conclusion, the evening was a rare triumph. The Piper is an artist of the highest order, and his mice, though of questionable breeding, have set a new standard for backup dancers. Sanford, savor your good fortune. For once, you have hosted something nearly as dazzling as my own presence, and that is praise no other queen would be generous enough to bestow.
