Things the widow thinks about, well, some of the things she thinks about

I love the Bach piano concertos (concerti, if you feel snobbish). They cheer my heart. Absolutely. I listen to them a lot.

My new recordings of them (and my only) are by Murray Peharia. I like him. And BBC Music Magazine says he is "One of the very great Bach players of our time." I believe it.

However, I hear on the recordings the unmistakable sound of his fingernails on the keys. I am shocked, and, I must also say, disappointed.

If you play the piano, you know what I'm talking about.

*    *    *

My neighbors have gone on a short trip to Cascade to celebrate their 43rd wedding anniversary. I will collect their mail and any packages left on their porch by UPS.  

Today Jan said, "If you see a tall, very thin young man with, you know, those discs in his earlobes, he's a nephew, and we're pretty sure he's on drugs."

"Great," I thought.

"If he just comes to the front door and leaves, that's okay. But if he goes around to the back, 911." Meaning, I should call 911.

"Great again," I thought and wondered if I shouldn't just speak to him. Didn't need to ask. Jan said, "Do not approach him."

They'll be home Thursday evening. I can't wait.

*    *    *

When you're driving down Broadway, about to pass Jim's Alibi Bar, you put your foot on the brake pedal, especially when you see a car about to exit the parking lot there. Because you don't know how much the driver has been drinking. You don't know if he sees you or if that matters.

You cautiously pass the place and notice that the car waiting to exit is a wreck. Really. A wreck. And you know it would not make any difference to that car if he pulled out and hit you. But it would to yours.

So you are very glad to be passing without incident.

*    *    *

A young man just came to my door. Not Jan's nephew. He's the guy I saw walking around the neighborhood as I drove home about an hour ago.

Of course, he's not here to sell me anything. "Good," I said, "because I don't want to buy anything."

He's here to scare me. Haven't I heard about all the break-ins?

I make no reply.

He has been sent out to choose two or three houses in which the company he represents can install--free of charge to me--their security system.

I don't like to be rude, but I began shaking my head and saying, "No, thank you."

He acted like he did not understand the universal head shaking gesture which means NO. And, apparently, he did not hear me say no thank you.

He said, "You're shaking your head. What does that mean?"

"I am saying no thank you."

He did not look happy when he left.

Why wouldn't I just say yes and get a free security system?

You figure it out.