During my latest trip to Sam Weller's a harpsichord concerto was being played over the loud speakers. It was an intense harpsichord piece--not Bach but definitely Baroqu--maybe Boccherini or Scarlati. The piece was intense with jabbing keystrokes and staccato violins and continuo. One of the clerks, a stylish woman in a wool skirt and a hot pink top with a cheek piercing called across the bookstore to a colleague sitting at the information desk in a matter-of-fact kind of tone, "This music is going to make me kill someone."
I cracked up then like I haven't cracked up in a long time--one of those gut busting laughs that you just can't keep in.
"Crazy isn't it?"she said, keeping up her flat tone.
I do find myself in sympathy with the woman. The other day when I was talking to my one daughter while watching the dancing parts of Saturday Night Fever, the other college daughter called, Bruiser was jumping on the bed, more or less, and I thought my head would explode. At such moments, I feel like the way they used to describe crack babies--too much sensory input=madness.
ReplyDeleteI had no idea there were intense harpsicord pieces.
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