The new toy is here and providing unexpected joy: I knew I'd love the iPhone's access to information anywhere any time, but I did not expect to be so enamoured of its iPod capability. What bliss it is to be soothed to sleep by sounds freely chosen instead of fighting off an intrusive re-hash of the day's events or rehearsal with the next day's spectres. My love of Elly Ameling is no secret, so it was not just chance that her rendition of the songs from Bach's Notebook for Anna Magdalena happened to be the first experimental sample I tried. (Well "A" for "Ameling" does put it at the top of the catalogue, but it did leap out at me.) Now for the part where the information connection kicked the experience up a notch: while lying there able to fully concentrate, I realized I'd never quite got the gist of what some of those songs were saying, but now I could find out immediately. Using that dinky little screen it was quite feasible to search, discover, and read
(Click the image for better view.) What I'd imagined to be some pretty straight-laced, if not allegorically religious declaration, is in fact something far more exciting. Now of course Bach was not the author of the words, but it did lead me to wonder about the selection. Given his 17 offspring, isn't it possible that his momentum carried him beyond the limits of his home at times, and that it was necessary for him to keep up appearances to keep his churchly job? Did J.S. and A.M. share secret thoughts even before the first Mrs. Bach passed on? Had I been able to remain awake a bit longer, I could have researched this too from my position of comfort in the dark.
If this example doesn't sound very convincing from an everyday practicality point of view, consider the quest for cinnamon from "southwest China." When confronted with a bag in the spice importer's warehouse labeled "cinnamon, Honan", and you think it sounds sort of like a Chinese province but even then you're not sure exactly which relative location, imagine knowing within a couple of minutes that Honan is indeed in China, but north central, and just how the Honan cinnamons compare to those from other regions.
This is obviously much more than a toy and a passing fancy; it's got my heart for the long term.
(Click the image for better view.) What I'd imagined to be some pretty straight-laced, if not allegorically religious declaration, is in fact something far more exciting. Now of course Bach was not the author of the words, but it did lead me to wonder about the selection. Given his 17 offspring, isn't it possible that his momentum carried him beyond the limits of his home at times, and that it was necessary for him to keep up appearances to keep his churchly job? Did J.S. and A.M. share secret thoughts even before the first Mrs. Bach passed on? Had I been able to remain awake a bit longer, I could have researched this too from my position of comfort in the dark.
If this example doesn't sound very convincing from an everyday practicality point of view, consider the quest for cinnamon from "southwest China." When confronted with a bag in the spice importer's warehouse labeled "cinnamon, Honan", and you think it sounds sort of like a Chinese province but even then you're not sure exactly which relative location, imagine knowing within a couple of minutes that Honan is indeed in China, but north central, and just how the Honan cinnamons compare to those from other regions.
This is obviously much more than a toy and a passing fancy; it's got my heart for the long term.
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