It's one of those mornings on the road. Only have to play the show tonight, no rehearsal this afternoon. Today is going to be special, two of my closest friends are driving up from Elkhart, Indiana to visit with me in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The symphony has been gracious enough to provide transportation large enough to handle my string bass so I'll have the luxury of playing in my room. There are a couple of hours to work on the Bach Cello Suites, maybe do a little composing, I'm happy as a clam. I take care of all my usual physical preparations, and settle in for some practicing before my friends arrive. I decide to work on some vocalizing, it's always been a difficult process for me to play the bass and sing at the same time. I've always loved to sing but my feminine voice kept me from being public about it. Now I'm trying to work it into the show. I'm warbling on "More Than You Know" when suddenly the door burst open and a Secret Service agent and her bomb-sniffing dog make a dramatic entrance. I nearly jumped through the roof. "What are you doing here?" We both shouted simultaneously. I was told to leave the room and wait in the hallway while three very serious looking agents made a complete search of my room and belongings. A background check completed the investigation. They knew everything about me. And then the explanation came: "President Bush is giving a speech this afternoon here in Grand Rapids and he's going to be staying in the Presidential Suite at the end of the hall for a few hours. There wasn't supposed to be anybody on this floor but don't worry, you've checked out OK. You can stay." Apparently there had been a snafu at the front desk when I checked in and the desk clerk had given me a room on the top floor by mistake. (He thought I was pretty.) Feminine currency. The agents were mostly very nice, they even seemed to have a sense of humor. I couldn't help but think on how they would all be willing to jump in front of a loaded gun. Except for busting through the door they were very respectful of me. I wasn't sure if my friends would be able to call but decided to wait in my room, maybe I'd get to meet the President of the United States! Little old me! I wanted to ask him, "Yo Prez, what's up with all this Gay Marriage crap? Between a man and a woman? So can you tell me what makes a man a man and a woman a woman? Don't you have better things to do?" Fortunately I had dressed and did my morning preparations before the door opened! I went back to my practicing and the phone rang. It was the hotel manager. We're very sorry but there has been a mistake and we'd like to move you to the Governor's Suite and we're offering free room service for the rest of your stay. I hedged a little, I was hoping to have a little chat with President Bush but being an upstanding citizen thought it best to contribute something for the public good. There were three bellhops at my door almost immediately, the Prez was due in a matter of minutes. I packed furiously and they whisked me downstairs to the Governor's Suite. It was enormous! You could have gotten plenty of exercise jogging around the rooms. As I was being escorted down the hallway I mentioned to the last Secret Service guy at the elevator, "It was my singing wasn't it?" Secret Service people actually laugh out loud sometimes. Jennifer Leitham August 1, 2004