Chris has been on a Chopin jag, and playing these wistful nocturnes, a category of music Chopin actually created: night musics. They are slow and bittersweet, like small children falling asleep after a hard day at play. They are deep and soul-touching.
"Do you think Chopin was a party animal?" he asks me. "Oh, yeah. Of course! Moulin Rouge!" "Chopin was 80 years after Moulin Rouge!" "You mean like Persians are impressive hulks?" A few months earlier, Chris had cited this nugget of information, and when queried on it, used the movie '300' as his validation. If he can take historical information from comic-book movies, I certainly can match him with historical informtion by Baz-movies. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure Chopin and Toulouse-Lautrec and Socrates all got scorched together!" "If you were a book, what chapter would you be called?" I asked him. "Forty-seven." His age. I laugh. I am not sure what mine would be. "Lost in the middle of the pond, but not necessarily worried about it at this point?"
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