Harmony Shattered: When a Musical Friendship Hits a Sour Note

Dear Abby,

I find myself caught in a truly frustrating dilemma, and I'm hoping you can offer some clarity. For decades, I've shared a deep and meaningful friendship with Clara, a woman blessed with extraordinary musical talent. She’s a brilliant pianist and organist, capable of enhancing any performance, be it for a church service or a social gathering.

When she’s there, she’s truly magnificent.

The problem, however, is her consistency – or rather, her severe lack thereof. Clara is a habitual last-minute canceller, a notorious late-comer, and often fails to show up at all for commitments we’ve made together. This isn't just a minor inconvenience; it's a profound source of stress and embarrassment for me.

I’m often the one who has to find a replacement at the eleventh hour or cover for her, enduring the glares and confusion of organizers and audiences alike.

We’ve had countless heart-to-heart talks about this. I’ve pleaded with her, tried to reason with her, even offered solutions, but nothing seems to stick.

She always apologizes profusely, promises to change, and for a brief moment, things might seem better. But inevitably, the pattern resurfaces. I love Clara dearly, and our friendship means the world to me. Yet, this constant unreliability is casting a dark shadow over our shared passion and, frankly, over our bond.

How can I preserve a cherished friendship when her professional conduct is so consistently unprofessional? Am I doomed to forever be "OUT OF TUNE IN NEW MEXICO"?

*

Dear Out of Tune,

Your frustration is palpable, and it’s a situation many can relate to. It’s commendable that you've held onto your friendship with Clara for so long, especially given the stress she's caused.

It's clear her talent is immense, but equally clear is her struggle with reliability, which, as you've discovered, is a far greater detriment than any talent can compensate for in a professional setting.

You’ve done everything you can to address Clara's behavior directly. You’ve talked, pleaded, and offered solutions.

The sad truth is, you cannot change Clara. You can only change how you react to her and how you structure your own commitments. It's time to set clear boundaries for your own well-being and professional integrity.

My advice is this: Stop making professional commitments that hinge on Clara's reliability.

For church services, paid gigs, or any engagement where dependability is crucial, seek out other musicians. There are many talented individuals who also possess the professionalism to honor their commitments. If Clara asks to join you for an informal jam session or a casual play-through, that’s one thing.

But for anything requiring strict adherence to schedules and obligations, you must learn to say no, or, more accurately, to make other arrangements from the outset.

This doesn't mean you have to end your friendship. You can still cherish Clara’s companionship and admire her talent from a distance, or in settings where her potential unreliability won't affect your responsibilities.

Explain to her, calmly and clearly, that while you value her friendship deeply, you can no longer risk your professional reputation on her unpredictable availability. This is about protecting yourself, not punishing her. By disentangling your professional life from your personal one with Clara, you might just find that the harmony in your friendship can be restored, free from the discordant notes of missed cues and broken promises.