Today I had the pleasure of driving with Tim from Easton, PA to Dulles International Airport. Overall the drive was uneventful. Tim surfed for NPR broadcasts and eventually ended up playing “Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me” podcasts from his iPod.
For those of you just tuning into “Thirteen Ways” I feel compelled to reiterate that Tim is a self-proclaimed classical music tragic. Classical music is the egg in his omelette, the coal in his locomotive, etc. His love for the genre is so all consuming I have found little evidence that he has any idea that other types of music even exist.
Before settling into the podcasts, we happened upon a local classical radio station which was fading in and out of service. The announcer prepared us to listen to a Telemann overture for harpsichord at which point I made a snarky comment about my apathy towards the Baroque period in general. This fell upon deaf ears as Tim listened intently to the recording.
After a few moments passed he said something which both shocked and delighted me. I leave it to you, our esteemed readers to conjecture.
[UPDATE: Of course, the answer is bedpans and self-flagellation. On ya!)
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