Way back in the 1970s, I had a band teacher. He started out with us in grade seven and, with the serious students, he went through to grade twelve. The man worked hard, and we had a tremendous band program in our small town with a ton of community support. For him, hours were long. There were evening practices once a week for the concert band, three mornings a week before school for the jazz band, and one evening a month for the jazz band to have a “listening night” at a math teacher’s home where we’d listen to and discuss jazz. Suffice it to say, our band teacher put a h*** of a lot of extra time into his job.

He had a wife and two kids, and they were used to the routine. But it became apparent to his wife that [Band Teacher] was spending more evenings and weekends away claiming work. She got suspicious and thought he was cheating on her, but all her friends told her she was wrong. She finally confronted her husband, and he denied cheating, claiming he was just doing everything he could to make the band program the best he could.

It turned out that [Band Teacher] was lying. The extra time had nothing to do with the band. It was spent in a friend’s garage where several guys were frantically working on a cute yellow convertible sports car for [Band Teacher]’s birthday present. His friends and their wives were all in on it, and it was a great surprise.

Sometimes, lying is not cheating.

RIP, Mr. G. You touched a lot of lives.