Embarrassing Admissions

I haven't any idea why there is this need to admit my own shortcomings. A wise woman would keep her mouth shut, but today there is an urge to humiliate myself.

Before that can be done, however, it is important you know I finally decided on a new vehicle. I lumbered into the Subaru dealership in my 14 year oldVW Cabrio, and zoomed off in this four-door sedan. It wasn't my fault. The salesman had a British accent. I'm a sucker for a British accent.

That is not the embarrassing part.

When I was in the dealership, there was only one thing I wanted from the Brit. Yeah, I didn't care about the airbags, the engine, the windshield defogger or the parking brake. I just wanted to know how to set the radio stations.

That is not the embarrassing part.

When I drove out of the dealership, the radio was on a classical station. I turned it up and the music filled the car as if an orchestra crammed into the back seat with me. It was spellbinding. Now here is the embarrassing part. In my other car I didn't listen to a lot of classical. I tell myself it was because old convertibles are so noisy. I sang along to enriching songs like "Come Fly with Me," "Hot Hot Hot" and "Smooth." But after a few trips in the new car, I can't get enough classical music. I searched at home, hauled out a Bach, a Chopin and a Mozart CD and blew the dust off.

I always knew I liked Mozart, but I didn't know what utter perfection his music was until I heard the Clarinet Concerto in A Major, second movement, Adagio.

I'm in love with it. Seriously. There is enough time on the way to work to play it twice. I'm hoping this is just a phase. That isn't the embarrassing thing, though. I mean, a lot of people listen to the same song twice, right? Right?

Here is the next embarrassing thing. I have, on occasion, pictured my novel as a movie. I mean, really, it is so vivid in my mind that I got seasick writing some of the scenes. You are going to have to trust me on this. I wrote long into the night finishing "The Storm" scene, and when I went to bed, I was still riding the waves and I'm positive my skin was a little green. I'm hoping this is normal--not the getting seasick, but the picturing your novel as a movie.

When I picture it, I always try to imagine the background music. Sometimes when I hear music at Starbucks something will come on and make me think, that would be great for the "Uh oh, maybe I shouldn't have done that" scene.

I know exactly what scene the Clarinet Concerto, should be played. It is only a brief scene in the book, but in my mind I see the camera pan back with the ship on the vast expanse of ocean, while the orchestra answers the clarinet solo.

So now you know. I'm a dweeb. I've only just discovered the magic.