"Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak." William Congreve
I was a wee little hunk o' junk when I first heard this line from The Mourning Bride misquoted in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. But, no matter how you butcher it, it's true. Beast, breast, chest -- music soothes them all.
While I was acting like the Tazmanian local government dust devil today, my Hans Zimmer CD, "The Wings of a Film", was playing on my computer. I had just erupted into a sleep deprived Texas tornado when the Fire Chief insisted my relentless headaches could be from high blood pressure. His opinion sounded all the more ludicrous accompanied by the theme from Driving Miss Daisy.
What a goob. What was he doing in my office anyway?
I mean, yeah, people yell at me now and then because the highway access roads were just converted to one way and nobody thanks me for the drought restrictions that prevent them from washing their cars and we just had a nail biting bond election, but I've never had high blood pressure -- not even pregnant.
By now, Thelma and Louise was playing and I was not about to be bullied into a blood pressure check over a hectic work day.
But would that guy give it a rest? Not even when I told him that I had just had a thorough exam two weeks ago with normal blood pressure, a perfect EKG and new migraine meds.
There he stood with his little stethoscope and blood pressure cuff.
One minute. Two. Three.
I'm fine. Go away.
Hello? People are looking at us.
Beat it! I have speeches to write, people to pacify, reporters to pester.
And then he slapped the cuff on my arm.
Oh, come on, Chief! Like this is necessary? In front of people, even?
I've never seen The Thin Red Line, but one of its themes was playing when that man took the steth out of his ears and gave me an ultimatum. Did I want him to call an ambulance or would I allow him to drive me himself in his shiny new Fire Chief car?
Could I play with the lights?
Well, did the new car have a CD player?