bloodyrosemccoy | Bad Sign Number Six Million And Seventeen

Sitting in the second row at the symphony listening to a stellar orchestra produce a velvety billow of music,* with magnificent cadences and brilliant cohesion—and having nothing in my head but cuddly G-rated slash scenes involving the very flail-oriented conductor and the cute young soloist.

I couldn’t help it! The conductor had the fluffiest fauxhawk I’ve ever seen! And he winked at the soloist between movements! Winked! No jury would convict me, dammit!

*I’d never heard Sibelius before. The program noted that “Dark, somber colors predominate” in this Concerto For Violin In D Minor, Op. 47, to which I indignantly replied, “Are you kidding? That’s the yellowest concerto I’ve ever heard!” Usually string music takes on the burgundy of the lower strings for me, but this one was inescapably the color of white wine.