The phonograph needle, that is. We have found a shelter in music from the wretched news of the day.
Let us explain: One of our faithful followers announced in December that her gift to herself would be a Trump-free Christmas; she would not listen to the Big Orange or read his tweets over the holidays.
The escape from Trumpland worked such wonders, restoring a sense of sunny stability in the universe, that she has moved forward into a Trump-free year.
It is difficult to escape Trump or Trump's thugs or Trump news--and he probably doesn't care what it is, subscribing to Oscar Wilde's dictum: "There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about."
We have reached back to another quotation, this from Groucho Marx, who said, "I find television very educational. Whenever someone turns it on, I go in another room and read a book."
So this now is our escape from the Trump miasma: whenever a Trump story looms, we move to music. We have renewed and deepened our relationship with Bach and Thelonious Monk, Sinatra and Shostakovich, Sonny Rollins and Ravel, Miles Davis and the Carter Family. Mental health abounds!
Let us know what happens in the U.S. midterms. As long as it's good news. Otherwise, it's back to Mark Murphy and Darius Milhaud, Max Roach and Lyle Lovett.
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