After a day of tootling through the southeastern countryside listening
to five hours of Mozart’s greatest, I’ve come to a few conclusions. Please,
pull up a chair and I’ll share.
1.) The kid was freaking brilliant. Really. Even to tin-eared me, his
compositions were masterful.
2.) Classical music is to song just as calculus is to math. To those
not “in the know,” it breeds fright, harrowing applause and nauseous bows upon
completion. Even to those “in the know,” a little jaw-dragging is allowed.
3.) Since there are “formulas” to create sonatas, rondos, and
minuet-trios, surely there must be some kind of like system to write romances,
mysteries and high-brow literary fare. Right? Just plug in a John here and a
Jane there, vary a trope and throw in one heck of a finale and you’ve got
yourself a classic whatever novel.
4.) Too many hours behind the wheel makes my brain ooze stupid. Please
pardon number 3.
In fact, a pardon request for this entire post may well be in order.
Apologies, dear ones.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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