The scene: an elegant restaurant.
A waiter crosses the floor, headed your way. His dress is formal, his manner both imperious and humble. As he approaches, you can’t help admiring the grace with which he avoids other diners, other staff, furniture placed apparently where he’s most likely to collide with it. You wonder — you doubt — whether you could ever move with such assurance.
The waiter arrives at your table. He raises an eyebrow, ever so slightly. He bends at the waist. The beverage is yours for the taking; he will not presume to touch it or place it before you.
A pause.
You raise your hand to the serving tray. Your fingers close around the stem of a glass…
What I don’t know about music theory could fit in a stadium, if I was lucky. (Yes, be patient, I’m not really changing the subject.) And as you know if you’ve been around here for even a few weeks, my hearing presents some obstacles when listening to anything at all.
But with music, the obstacles are minor as long as there aren’t any words involved. I can hear the instruments and the notes and rhythms just fine. And every now and then, I think I hear music do something interesting. And then I hear it again, in some other piece. And then I wonder if there’s a name for this something, or if I’m just imagining things…
