A Symphony for Me

Turning the dial on my IPod, the music streaming through tiny wires and into my ears increases and Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons obscures any other ambient noise that dare intrude on my repose.  Reclining, I endeavor to make myself comfortable, even if the circumstances are not ideal.  You see, I am an introvert and make an effort to be solitary, and when not, at least unobtrusive and thus, with good fortune, unobserved.  Now, with technological advances, I can escape the intrusive commotion of the world round about.  Indeed, I find my IPod a gift, allowing for continuous emanation of serene symphonies.  Partial to classical composition, I especially delight in Baroque and Romance eras, my IPod teeming with Paganini, Mendelssohn, Verdi, Tchaikovsky, and so many others.  Thus, I am content to spend the next few hours oblivious to anything save the absorbing opuses – and the view, an exquisite panorama – wisps of clouds dancing atop ocean whitecaps, and nothing beyond.  As Vivaldi concludes, I close my eyes and listen to Broken Wings, the second symphony of 20th century composer Alan Hovhaness.  Now, only two minutes into the movement, I feel turbulence, stronger than I ever have felt.  Simultaneously, the tranquility I so cherished dissipated into the reverberation of screams.  Opening my eyes, I stare out the window, the burning engine dangling from the jet’s wing the most obvious cause of the intensifying mayhem.  I push the buttons and turn the dials on my IPod until the swelling sound of Verdi’s Messa da Requiem obstructs the unwelcome intrusion.  Ignoring the events inside the airplane, allowing Verdi to engulf my tiny world of Seat 26A, I watch the wisps of clouds dancing atop the ocean whitecaps draw closer and closer, knowing that Messa da Requiem now plays for me.