Calming -- A Good Thing

It is not my habit to rabbit on about the doings and achievements of my children, save when their activities impinge a bit on my own. I had just finished confirming the delivery of some 1000 sugar beet seeds to the Svalbard Global Seed Vault in the north of Norway, thereby calming my psyche by ensuring that sugar beets would survive any horrific catastrophe, when my eldest daughter Isolde sailed into the Manor, Stradivarius in tow. Also in tow were three rather scruffy guys, along with a cello, a clarinet, and a viola.

Seeing the viola recalled Victor Borge's observation that the only difference between a viola and a violin was that a viola takes longer to burn, a statement that when she first heard it, appalled Isolde. (This occurred when I was in the process of teaching my brats that it could be a cruel world out there. Therefore one must learn to face life with the serene confidence that a Christian feels in four aces, as Mark Twain so well put it.)

What Isolde and her companions wanted was the use of the Manor's sound studio, an area normally off-limits. The studio was very much a factor in The Trade, linked as it is to MI 6, Mossad and the NSA, and where certain recordings and broadcasts were made in the name of mis-information. (The latest broadcast was rather neat, and involved inserting a rendition of Onward Christian Soldiers by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir into Iranian State Radio. I am told that old Ahmadinejad went apoplectic. Too bad.)

Isolde and her companions weren't after anything so dramatic, but did want to make a series of recordings for some outfit called the American Mall Association. I was hesitant about allowing the three lads into the studio -- they really needed a good clothing advisor, and Isolde sensed this reluctance. She explained that her friends were the Jess Trio, one of the best chamber trios in the world, and had come right from the airport, and had to get back to Vienna the next day. Not much time for sartorial elegance.

Well, I always found time for sartorial elegance, but nevertheless relented. I did demand, however, what this type of talent was doing in cahoots with something as banal as the American Mall Association.

"New Zealand, Mum." said Isolde.

This was not helpful.

"New Zealand what?" I asked.

Well, long story short, apparently the Christchurch City Mall had taken to playing classical chamber music over their mall speakers. Prior to this, theft and robbery had been rampant.

"Eighty-six incidents a week in 2008, Mum," stated Isolde. "After the music began to be played, the incidents fell to two a week. Things got calmer. Much calmer. And the musicians weren't even that good. The Mall Association took note the and the Jess Trio was contacted and they wanted me as violinist and I knew about this studio and we've decided on pieces from Vivaldi, and Bach and of course Mozart and maybe Schumann and --"

"All right, all right. Talk about a run-on sentence. But Irving and Rachel will have to supervise. A wrong button in that room could cause....difficulties."

"Who the hell is Rachel?" asked Isolde.

"Irving will explain, if he has a mind to. I trust there is money in all this.?"

"Lots of money, Mum. The cost savings for the Mall stores are significant."

"Good. Then a healthy contribution to the Little Sisters of Poverty and Pain will be in order. For the use of the studio, you understand."

And so it transpired, and no doubt things would get calmer in American malls.

At least until the Ungodly figure out how to hack into the mall sound systems and start blasting out pieces from Iron Maiden, Metallica or anything by Ozzie Osbourne. But for a short while, calmness should reign.

One can but hope.