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Deep in the soupy fog of nether-nights on the job; when the mind begins to play hallucinatory tricks, I often whistle some of Wolfgang's oeuvre to perk myself up. The majesty inherent in the music works charmingly.

Suddenly I smile again and my load is lighter; a bounce dares reveal itself in my step. My fave-most selection is a snippet from the Theme from Elvira Madigan. As an added benefit my co-workers surely think I am deep.. or crazy, or both. I think this eccentric freedom in the midst of my little slice of winking oppression is a feeling Mozart knew well-- it drips through the strains of his art.

Other times I'll go traditional and will pucker up for Eine Kleine Nachtmusik which brings glints of recognition like "hey, I heard that in a commercial!".


So far being a bit daft in the 24 hour WalMart hasn't impressed that doe-eyed silky raven-haired girl gracing the condiments aisle-- but I'll keep whistling nonetheless.

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