It’s Friday the 13th and for the superstitious amongst us, it’s a day that has the potential to be unlucky. Whilst I am not influenced by fantasy, I’ll admit that I drove to work this morning slightly more slowly and carefully than I would do normally. I’ll be honest, having a crash would be unlucky on any day but on such a Friday, one could even expect one’s insurance company to have a laugh at one’s expense.
To encourage calm, my journey to the office was accompanied by some lively music; that is not an unusual occurrence in itself but what is (and make sure, if you are so engaged, that you put down your drink or finish chewing before you read on), is that the genre of music was classical. You now understand that if I hadn’t warned you first, you could have made a right mess of your clothing and I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.
The thing is this, my usual head banging stuff was just not appropriate for today’s commute.
My regular readers, certainly those who embrace the heavy metal and punk music movements, will be astonished at this revelation; and even those readers not completely au-fait with my musical preferences might raise an eyebrow.
On the subject of brows, I haven’t gone all highbrow, in fact the CD in the player was Classical Experience IV. This is a compilation album for those uninitiated into the world of classical music. The album gives a listener a taste of the works of a number of the genre’s best known composers.
I have to state that Holst’s Neptune (The Planets), Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, the March from the Karelia Suite by Sibelius and Verdi’s Anvil Chorus were inspiring. One or two of the tracks on the album are operatic; during those numbers, I felt like Morse (just wish I was driving the Jag).
As I listened in awe, I realised that Zafira (she’s my car and you can read more about her here) was joining in.
Her dashboard creaked and groaned arthritically and the sound of her tortured plastic, perhaps bizarrely, seemed to complement the music. And it was this reflection that prompted this post.
Pardon me whilst I digress for a moment; Mike a close buddy of mine, who shall not remain nameless, has a real problem with creaking plastic in cars. In fact his efforts to eradicate creaks and groans from his dashboards over the years have seen cardboard wedged into gaps, bits taken off altogether and much cursing and thumping. His drive to eradicate erroneous noise borders on OCD – seriously he has actually resorted to selling motors with dashboards that he has failed to silence.
Zafira would reduce Mike to tears; from time to time her dashboard creaks so much that you would think she was trying to communicate with you. Some time ago I stopped getting frustrated by the noise and started to find it funny and even endearing.
During today’s drive to Milton Keynes I am sure she was just composing her own symphony.
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To encourage calm, my journey to the office was accompanied by some lively music; that is not an unusual occurrence in itself but what is (and make sure, if you are so engaged, that you put down your drink or finish chewing before you read on), is that the genre of music was classical. You now understand that if I hadn’t warned you first, you could have made a right mess of your clothing and I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.
The thing is this, my usual head banging stuff was just not appropriate for today’s commute.
My regular readers, certainly those who embrace the heavy metal and punk music movements, will be astonished at this revelation; and even those readers not completely au-fait with my musical preferences might raise an eyebrow.
On the subject of brows, I haven’t gone all highbrow, in fact the CD in the player was Classical Experience IV. This is a compilation album for those uninitiated into the world of classical music. The album gives a listener a taste of the works of a number of the genre’s best known composers.
I have to state that Holst’s Neptune (The Planets), Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, the March from the Karelia Suite by Sibelius and Verdi’s Anvil Chorus were inspiring. One or two of the tracks on the album are operatic; during those numbers, I felt like Morse (just wish I was driving the Jag).
As I listened in awe, I realised that Zafira (she’s my car and you can read more about her here) was joining in.
Her dashboard creaked and groaned arthritically and the sound of her tortured plastic, perhaps bizarrely, seemed to complement the music. And it was this reflection that prompted this post.
Pardon me whilst I digress for a moment; Mike a close buddy of mine, who shall not remain nameless, has a real problem with creaking plastic in cars. In fact his efforts to eradicate creaks and groans from his dashboards over the years have seen cardboard wedged into gaps, bits taken off altogether and much cursing and thumping. His drive to eradicate erroneous noise borders on OCD – seriously he has actually resorted to selling motors with dashboards that he has failed to silence.
Zafira would reduce Mike to tears; from time to time her dashboard creaks so much that you would think she was trying to communicate with you. Some time ago I stopped getting frustrated by the noise and started to find it funny and even endearing.
During today’s drive to Milton Keynes I am sure she was just composing her own symphony.
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