Yo Ludwig
On July 4th Dubya-Hex-Hex-Hi, the classical-music radio station out of Rochester I listen to almost constantly.....
Aired Beethoven’s triumphant Ninth Symphony, the famous “Ode to Joy."
I had it on as background, keying in something on this laptop.
Much of Beethoven’s Ninth is in my head. Not note-for-note, but I can predict.
Bombing along, even the choruses, despite my dislike of singing. It’s a fitting tribute to the day.
But suddenly a baritone bellows over everything. “That’s it!” I say. So ends my reverie. “I’m not puttin’ up with that!”
I zoom into the kitchen, switch off WXXI, then back to my laptop to fire up Railstream: their Cresson webcam, which looks out over the old Pennsylvania Railroad mainline up Allegheny Mountain.
I’m a railfan, addicted to that webcam.
I can’t stand singing; especially single-voice shrieking and bellowing.
A guy with whom I graduated college, who sang in the college choir, recently noted he would attend a concert of Schubert’s Song-Cycles. I YouTubed it.
“Only one thing wrong Charlie, they were singing!”
On Saturday afternoon WXXI airs opera. No way José. Stringy-haired 350-pound blonds in horned helmets screaming “Ride of the Valkyries” at the top of their lungs.
And every opera involves murder, incest, stabbings, and star-crossed lovers jumping hand-in-hand 200 feet off castle parapets into roiling ocean.
“Uh-oh. They goosed her again.” The prima-donna just screamed her highest note ever, audible in 50 states.
And why can’t they speak English? I don’t know what they’re saying. And since when does dialog get sung? If I did that with my grocery checkout she’d turn on her alert-light.
The old Pennsy main sees a lotta trains through Cresson. The railroad is now Norfolk Southern.
“There’s another,” and “sounds like 07T (Amtrak’s westbound Pennsylvanian). (Rumba-rumba = I can always tell a P-42.)
I also fire up iTunes railroad-radio scanner-feed from Cresson: “O7T on Three, MO, CLEAR!” Not far; I’ll see it shortly on the webcam.
I’m a railfan, and that webcam is much better than shrieking and bellowing.
So Ludwig, ya composed some of the greatest music of all time. “Ode to Joy” for example, until that baritone starts bellering.
• “MO” are the old telegraph call-letters of a railroad-tower once at that location. That tower is gone — the railroad is dispatched from Pittsburgh. But the location remains. It’s now just interlocked switches and crossovers = CP-MO. (Control-point MO.)
Aired Beethoven’s triumphant Ninth Symphony, the famous “Ode to Joy."
I had it on as background, keying in something on this laptop.
Much of Beethoven’s Ninth is in my head. Not note-for-note, but I can predict.
Bombing along, even the choruses, despite my dislike of singing. It’s a fitting tribute to the day.
But suddenly a baritone bellows over everything. “That’s it!” I say. So ends my reverie. “I’m not puttin’ up with that!”
I zoom into the kitchen, switch off WXXI, then back to my laptop to fire up Railstream: their Cresson webcam, which looks out over the old Pennsylvania Railroad mainline up Allegheny Mountain.
I’m a railfan, addicted to that webcam.
I can’t stand singing; especially single-voice shrieking and bellowing.
A guy with whom I graduated college, who sang in the college choir, recently noted he would attend a concert of Schubert’s Song-Cycles. I YouTubed it.
“Only one thing wrong Charlie, they were singing!”
On Saturday afternoon WXXI airs opera. No way José. Stringy-haired 350-pound blonds in horned helmets screaming “Ride of the Valkyries” at the top of their lungs.
And every opera involves murder, incest, stabbings, and star-crossed lovers jumping hand-in-hand 200 feet off castle parapets into roiling ocean.
“Uh-oh. They goosed her again.” The prima-donna just screamed her highest note ever, audible in 50 states.
And why can’t they speak English? I don’t know what they’re saying. And since when does dialog get sung? If I did that with my grocery checkout she’d turn on her alert-light.
The old Pennsy main sees a lotta trains through Cresson. The railroad is now Norfolk Southern.
“There’s another,” and “sounds like 07T (Amtrak’s westbound Pennsylvanian). (Rumba-rumba = I can always tell a P-42.)
I also fire up iTunes railroad-radio scanner-feed from Cresson: “O7T on Three, MO, CLEAR!” Not far; I’ll see it shortly on the webcam.
I’m a railfan, and that webcam is much better than shrieking and bellowing.
So Ludwig, ya composed some of the greatest music of all time. “Ode to Joy” for example, until that baritone starts bellering.
• “MO” are the old telegraph call-letters of a railroad-tower once at that location. That tower is gone — the railroad is dispatched from Pittsburgh. But the location remains. It’s now just interlocked switches and crossovers = CP-MO. (Control-point MO.)
Labels: Music wisdom, trains
posted by BobbaLew at 2:46 PM
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