Ashley suggests the following apply to definitions of a second:

As an ordinal, ‘second’ is, depending on intonation, either ‘good but not best’ as in coming in second to win silver ... or derisively as in ‘second-rate’ not worthy of consideration.

But when defined by Lou Costello, ‘Second’ is that which ‘What’s on’. So second could be ‘what’s happening at the moment’ However, if ‘what’s on’ is meant as ‘what one is wearing’, a second to an artist’s Life Model would mean nothing.

So, depending on the context, ‘second’ could be (1) an also-ran rating, (2) a degrading dismissal, (3) an up-beat assessment or (4) a stripping away of dignity.

On second thought, it could be a reflection.

When informed she’d won a music award, Jenny could not have been prouder. For the competition last month she’d done an a cappella version of “Swing Low,” and Mr. Murph and everyone at school said she’d killed it. Now at the ceremony in the Hyatt Regency, she was only a little disappointed to find she’d been a runner up. Only the first-place winners received trophies on the stage. The other trophies, they said, would be delivered to the rooms later that afternoon. At least she didn’t have to make a speech.

After the ceremony, her grandparents congratulated her. They’d driven in from Des Moines and had planned to book a room at the hotel, but Jenny had insisted they could share hers. “We can’t wait to see your trophy,” Grandpa Joe said. “We’ll meet you up in the room in two shakes,” said Grandma Shirley.

“That’d be great,” said Jenny, taking care not to sniff her armpit. “Just give me a few seconds to shower first, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Grandpa Joe said. “Though we wouldn’t mind hearing you sing in the shower. A private concert.”

“Anything would be better than your caterwauling,” Grandma Shirley added.

“Just be happy you didn’t get your singing voice from me,” said Joe.

“You go ahead, dear,” Shirley said. “We’ll just get our luggage and see about making a dinner reservation.”

In her room, Jenny took a quick shower, and coming out of the bathroom she saw that the trophy had been delivered. It was sitting on the dresser, covered by a cloth. A slip of paper lay next to it. She picked up the paper. Official Score Sheet, it read. Below that:

Jenny C Listrum
Range: 10
Intonation: 10
Tempo: 10
Fingering: 2
Showmanship: 9

Wondering what fingering had to do with a cappella singing, Jenny lifted the cloth from the trophy. It was facing away from her, toward the dresser’s mirror.

This couldn’t be right, Jenny thought. This had to be a mistake. She picked up the trophy, not sure what to do with it, and at that instant the door clicked and swung opened. “We’re here!” It was her grandparents.