Happy Birthday, Mozart
January 27th was Johann Chrysostom Wolfgang Theophilus Mozart's 250th birthday. And I thought I was old. But I am old enough, in fact, to remember Mozart's 200th birthday, and it is a day that I remember quite well. Today, the common man on the streets may not know what day Mozart's birthday is, or even perhaps who Mozart is. It's a shame, because 50 years ago, it was completely different.
On Mozart's 200th birthday, my friends and I were excited, and we were going to celebrate. It was a big deal; it was marked on all the calendars, and on the radio, most of the music you could listen to was Mozart. I had recently bought a new car, and my friends and I put on our best clothing and prepared for the drive to the City: Cincinnati.
We went to a few pubs, and everywhere we went, I recall, Mozart was on the phonograph. The people who were not dancing were discussing his music. "What do you think of symphony number 20," or "Is not 'Leck mir den Arsch fein recht schon sauber'" Mr. Mozart's finest aria?" This was the kind of discussion which I recall hearing on that day.
After we had visited two or three pubs, I recall that we came to a dance hall which was filled with some of the most beautiful ladies I had seen. There was one girl, Mary Beth, who I think is probably the most beautiful girl I have ever met in my life. She had dark brown hair and striking blue eyes, soft skin, and poutry lips. She started talking to me about some symphony, but then I confess, that my thoughts were no longer so much on Mozart. Soon I held her in my arms, and we were dancing. I was in paradise.
But after we had danced for a couple of hours, a curious thing happened. Mary Beth grabbed me, pulled me into a corner, and said "let's get down to business." When she said that, I was shocked. I had of course never tried it myself, but I had read about the scourge that was blighting our cities, turning our bright young people into craven hedonists. I had seen the film Reefer Madness, which gave a scientific view of the effects of this hideous substance on our youth.
When Mary Beth pulled me into the corner and said "let's get down to business," I knew that she was talking about the marijuana business, and I was having none of that. "No," I yelled at her, grabbed my friends, and we left that dance hall, and its insidious secrets, and headed back to the tranquil safety of Lebanon.
Why do we not as a society, spend the same amount of time enjoying the pleasure of Mozart today? Have we forgotten the joy of Mozart? I certainly hope not.