Peter and I have been classical music fans forever. Occasionally, while listening to music on the radio, we’ll hear a “warhorse” we recognize but can’t name.
The other day when we couldn't decide who had written a very familiar piece playing on the local classical music station, we decided we’d have to wait for the announcer to tell us.
I then had a vivid childhood memory.
I lived in a small two-family house in Cincinnati, Ohio from ages four to nine. Every Saturday morning I would lie on the floor in my parents’ bedroom listening to “Let’s Pretend” a then-popular radio program. At the end of each broadcast, the announcer would say “Next week on Let’s Pretend…” at which point, my older brother Don would magically appear, and fake a huge sneeze so that I couldn’t hear what was coming next.
It infuriated me.
So the other day, when the announcer was about to name the piece of music we had been listening to, I gave some thought to sneezing à la Don.
It was Brahms’ Second Symphony.