I recently got annoyed with politics, the backstabbing, the ugliness. So I, finally, after years of diligent listening, pressed the “AM/FM” button on my car’s radio. I was listening to music.
However, the stations never played anything good. The oldies stations didn’t like shelling out bucks for the decent oldies songs, the pop stations never played anything good, and I’ve never been a fan of rap or country. Also, the ads these stations played were loud and obnoxious. That’s when I found the classical station.
Classical music isn’t my favorite type, but it works. They played very few commercials, and they kept the music spinning. I had found my place on the dial. However, it had its own set of problems.
The first problem came from the fact that when I am in the car, I tend to sing along with the radio. Now this isn’t a problem when it comes to, say, The Supremes, but when I’m hearing Beethoven and feel a sudden urge to sing the opera parts as well as the tubas, violins, oboes, kettle drums, and that little tiny trumpet all at the same time along with the obligatory “conductor” gesture, I tend to get weird looks from the other cars at a traffic light.
The second problem arises whenever a classical music fan gets in the car with me. You can tell they’re a classical music fan when you turn on the radio and they say “Oh!” and clutch their heart like they’re recalling a moment of their childhood in which they ate an apple or sat under a tree or something crisply sentimental like that. Then, they proceed to tell you all about the music you’re listening to.
“This is Tchaikovsky’s Serenade in Blue in B with A minor sharp and fries on the side”
They expect you to know what they’re talking about.
I suppose classical music radio, with all its drawbacks, isn’t so bad. I mean, after all, when the classical music fan says
“Do you know Mozart’s Epiphany in D major tenor?”
I can say “Sure!” and fake it by singing along with whatever is on the radio at the time. That usually shuts them up.
I recently got annoyed with politics, the backstabbing, the ugliness. So I, finally, after years of diligent listening, pressed the “AM/FM” button on my car’s radio. I was listening to music.
However, the stations never played anything good. The oldies stations didn’t like shelling out bucks for the decent oldies songs, the pop stations never played anything good, and I’ve never been a fan of rap or country. Also, the ads these stations played were loud and obnoxious. That’s when I found the classical station.
Classical music isn’t my favorite type, but it works. They played very few commercials, and they kept the music spinning. I had found my place on the dial. However, it had its own set of problems.
The first problem came from the fact that when I am in the car, I tend to sing along with the radio. Now this isn’t a problem when it comes to, say, The Supremes, but when I’m hearing Beethoven and feel a sudden urge to sing the opera parts as well as the tubas, violins, oboes, kettle drums, and that little tiny trumpet all at the same time along with the obligatory “conductor” gesture, I tend to get weird looks from the other cars at a traffic light.
The second problem arises whenever a classical music fan gets in the car with me. You can tell they’re a classical music fan when you turn on the radio and they say “Oh!” and clutch their heart like they’re recalling a moment of their childhood in which they ate an apple or sat under a tree or something crisply sentimental like that. Then, they proceed to tell you all about the music you’re listening to.
“This is Tchaikovsky’s Serenade in Blue in B with A minor sharp and fries on the side”
They expect you to know what they’re talking about.
I suppose classical music radio, with all its drawbacks, isn’t so bad. I mean, after all, when the classical music fan says
“Do you know Mozart’s Epiphany in D major tenor?”
I can say “Sure!” and fake it by singing along with whatever is on the radio at the time. That usually shuts them up.