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[personal profile] venta
And part three of the "This morning, on the way to work..." series:

William, my elderly car, has recently developed a Really Serious Fault. OK, so there's the mysterious and terrifying clunking noise whenever I brake while in reverse. There's the schizophrenic central locking. There's the increasingly strange behaviour of the stalk which controls the lights and indicators. There's the mystifying and irregular problem with the electrics.

But none of these are serious. The real issue here is that in the last couple of weeks, the stereo has stopped working. I don't mind the clunking and the inability to indicate right sometimes, but really, one has to draw the line somewhere. I do have a new (well, second hand) stereo waiting to be fitted - but there's no point doing that till the aforementioned problems with the electrics have been investigated.

However, this morning, I suddenly had a fit of inspiration, tested it and confirmed: only the tape deck is broken. The radio still works. Hurrah!

Now, as far as I can tell, car radios (radii?) come in two flavours. There's the ones that other people operate, which switch smoothly from channel to channel, picking up the station clearly. Then there's the ones I operate, which always play half a local station no one's heard of, and half white noise. Which will scan along FM from 90 to 110 without ever finding Radio One - or indeed anything else identifiable - or arbitrarily refuse to play anything but Medium Wave.

Some kind soul in the past seems to have tuned my car radio to Classic FM - and it was playing merrily, with beautifully clear reception. I know better than to dick around with something that ain't broke, so we had Classic FM this morning.

Half way to work, I realised that I'd been able to identify, or at least say something moderately intelligent about, every piece I'd heard. Which left me feeling pleasingly educated. Of course, there is the theory that says that Classic FM is repulsively populist, and that any muppet who can tell Taverner from Tavener can identify each track best out of three. But enough of that.

Not that I was actually always correct, of course. I heard the variations on Simple Gifts, which I cheerfully attributed to Vaughan Williams instead of Aaron Copland (kind of "right guy, wrong country", there.) And I went "ooh, ooh, ooh, I know this" all the way through Saint-Saëns' The Swan without ever coming to any very serious conclusion. I appear to know nothing about Elgar. Was pleased with myself to be able to dredge the name Albeniz out of my head at the appropriate juncture, though.

And I really, really do need new speakers - something that was obvious when I dismantled them the other day, and lots of crumbly ick fell out of where the membrane ought to have been. The Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves turned up full belt just about finished the poor things off.

I think I could quite get to like this classical music on the way to work idea, though.


Update: I said a while ago I was going to stop putting cut-tags in which didn't indicate what was behind them. I haven't stopped, have I ? This one hides a bit of a witter about classical music on the radio.

Date: 2004-08-05 08:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] feanelwa.livejournal.com
Now. Well, a couple of years ago. He writes piano pieces that are...you know when you sit a child down at a piano before it's been taught that nobody wants to hear its imagination, and it just improvises? It's like that. It's pretty, but charging £15 for it is taking the piss. When he was in fashion, Classic FM would be beseiged by middle-aged women ringing up during the Request Lunch programme to twitter about how wonderful he was despite two out of the last four pieces having been Einauldi.

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