Good grief, it’s Monday again already.
It seems like only yesterday that I was off to see Imogen Cooper play at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on the Southbank. She was playing Schubert on Friday night with the Takács Quartet.
Now, I love watching and listening to Imogen Cooper play the piano. Her grace and poise is amazing and even if what she’s playing is too high for me to hear, it’s still visually entertaining.
However, what I had forgotten was that she was only playing in the second half – the first half was just the string quartet and the only instrument in the collection that I could hear was the cello.
This meant that the first half was largely silent for me, save a few squeaks and pips to accompany what was just a long and quite dull cello solo.
However, the second half improved with the departure of one of the violinists and the arrival of a double bassist and of course the piano. But I still found myself flicking through the program during the higher sections to help keep my mind occupied. I did this as quietly as possible – never really being sure how much noise this actually makes – but just three pages in, the man next to me put his hand out to stop me turning the pages.
I felt like a naughty school kid and felt my cheeks burning up with embarrassment.
Pa however, said that the program wasn’t making any noise so perhaps the grumpy old man just objected to me multitasking.
It is something I have to keep in mind though, as I go about my day-to-day life. I forget things make a noise, such as this very keyboard, which I am hammering away on – to me soundlessly – but to everyone else noisily. Other examples include the clicking sound a retractable ballpoint pen makes and games on my iPhone. These often come with default sound and I am only aware it is on once I notice the death stares other commuters are giving me.
But perhaps the most embarrassing example of this was in my old car, Jennifer, who was a soft top British racing green mini – the old model, not the stoopid BMW version. There I was driving through the tranquil countryside at 2am, after a night out with my car alarm blaring. I had no idea the car even had a working alarm, let alone that it could go off when I was behind the wheel.
Luckily, in this instance, Friend Who Knows Big Words was with me and she was the one that pointed out that perhaps the ‘Wah-woo-wah-woo’ din coming from my tiny little Mini was not normal, and that also perhaps, the neighbours in the sleepy Cotswold village we were in wouldn’t be too pleased with this early morning wake-up call.
But could I get it to stop?
Erm no! So I had to drive the 8 miles home with the alarm still going off.
And in this instance, I was very glad I couldn’t hear it. And Friend Who Knows Big Words? Well let’s just say, it was a while before she got in my car again!!!!