Variations on a Theme by Panini
I once met a man who was a musical instrument. Hell, he was a whole symphony orchestra. A very pleasant man, when you got to know him, but, shall we say, altogether too...audible?
I don't know why I've thought of him today. Maybe because I woke up in the small hours of the night and listened. The wind was making the house creak a little, though the storm had settled down some. It was very quiet. Outside. I was playing a concerto. I take that back; out of respect for the talents of my friend, long misplaced, I was playing the beginner exercises. But, in the peace of the midnight, I was playing them fortissimo. With vigor.
I dozed; and when I arose, I went to Carnegie Hall. And my debut, I am somewhat relieved to admit, was a bit of a let-down. Here it is evening again, and I really haven't been musical all day. I went to class, fought the Battle of the Pub Mats, and did all of the fruitless, unmentionable businesses of a Christmastime Saturday. I got a haircut (for the record) and took the pictures for my Christmas photo card, and moved furniture so it wouldn't be in the pictures. No music all day, except for the kind that filled my ears.
I'm hoping that I will be excused from any performances of the Moonlight Sonata tonight. I need my rest. Oratorio tomorrow.
