It was our fourth date.
I had been invited to a party by a co-worker, an attractive woman who worked with me at a television station as a producer of classical music programming.
I initially balked at attending but then thought perhaps my date might enjoy something as simple as a party. We were beginning to CLICK and I was unabashedly smitten by the woman. She possessed the confidence of a beautiful woman and wasn’t apprehensive about meeting an attractive co-worker. I thought it best to be completely forthright that the one who invited me was someone who I thought might find me attractive as a mate.
I had no idea if she was married, engaged, or dating someone else. I just knew from little signals while working with the woman that she welcomed my attention.
The attractive co-worker was surprised to see me at the door of her condo since I had initially indicated I didn’t think I could make the festivities. She welcomed my date with an enthusiasm that I would have expected from her if my date had been her BFF, if not a sister.
The big news she shared with us as she got provided liquid refreshments that she concocted – making it clear that she was an accomplished bartender as well as a connoisseur of the best in classical pieces – was delivery of a piano, a gift from her father for her birthday – the reason for the party.
I asked her to play something and she made it clear, “Oh, I haven’t a clue on how to play it. My dad wants me to take lessons which I’ll probably do – but for now, I only stare at it, hoping someone will put it to use.” She then smiled at both me and my date and asked, “Do either of you know how to play?”
I replied, “Yes, but unfortunately don’t ask me anything contemporary. I had my instructor only teach me the classics.”
“By all means, play something for me and my wonderful guests.” She then turned to the revelers, about a dozen in all who also demanded that I play something.
And so I took my seat on that bench wondering what I might play that had an appeal to contemporaries that probably appreciated the work of rock artists and not that of someone from a century before. I decided that there was one artist that transcended time, someone whose music could touch the soul of anyone. The piece to play was “Claire de Lune,” – that much I was sure.
The cascading notes mesmerized all in the room that night. As it turned out, Claire de Lune was a favorite of my escort for the evening. On our previous dates, I never mentioned that I played the piano. My date was aware that I had been a musician – a drummer in a rock n roll band, but had no idea I played any other instruments.
Claire de Lune was a far cry from rock and yet like any good piece of music, it had a vibrancy and a soul that touched one’s inner emotions. When I finished playing, I looked up to see in my date’s eyes tears of joy. She was moved and surprised that I could play the piece with such emotion, such verve, such panache that the look was nothing shy of a look of love.
We wound up at my place that night. We made sweet love to none other than Claude Debussy’s wonderful creation, “Claire de Lune.” We moved to the cascading rolls of notes in a rhythm neither of us would ever have imagined. It was nothing short of two young lovers who decided that they would GO DO GOOD by celebrating their desire to FALL IN LOVE with the help of a soundtrack that magically transported them to that moment when you know you’re with the right person – the love of your life.
I’ll never forget that evening no matter how long I live.
Thank you, Claude.
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