The Classics

This morning I was flipping through the radio on my way to work and a crescendo of chords on the classical station managed to capture my attention. Before I knew it, Mozart guided me through a musical journey that had me absolutely lost in my car and not lost in my usual sense of automotive amnesia like “OH MY GOSH, THIS IS A ONE WAY STREET!” No, simply lost in the instrumental of emotion. I pulled into work feeling refined and sophisticated, while also thinking “I can never let anyone know about this.” Cuz how often do you pull up next to someone and hear them bumpin’ some Bach? Then I realized that my demeanor and dress probably leads people to a first impression that is something to the effect of “Here’s a guy who drained his emergency savings to follow the London Symphony Orchestra around Europe.” Luckily, I have the kind of ensemble of acquaintances in my life who may have thought that on a million occasions, but they have managed to play the most compassionate version of the Quiet Game of all time and I love you all dearly for that.