Oh, those sound people …
Winter, snowstorm, visibility on the road is almost zero. A turn, and suddenly a figure appears directly in front of the car. The driver miraculously does not run over a pedestrian. He opens the window, shakes his fist and yells: “You moron! What are you crawling under the wheels! Are you tired of living ?! And the man wanders on, not looking back and not even noticing the car that almost hit him.
Winter, snowstorm, visibility on the road is almost zero. A turn, and suddenly a lone figure appears right in front of the car. A taxi driver, swearing and twisting the steering wheel, miraculously does not hit a pedestrian. He opens the window, shakes his fist and yells: “You moron! What are you crawling under the wheels! Are you tired of living ?! And the man wanders on, not looking back and not even noticing the car that almost hit him. He walks diagonally across the street, plugging his ears with headphones from the player, pulling the hood of his jacket to his nose, not paying attention to the cars that emerge now and then from the snow veil and soon disappear into it. Complete detachment from the surrounding reality, as if the world around does not exist at all - so, a weak illusion. Only music is real, with its roar erecting a barrier between him and this illusion. Music, in which he is hidden, like a snail in a house, wrapped up, swaddled,protected from blizzards, blizzards and all the idiots of this world. The music in which he lives …
***
The home computer park was replenished with equipment that categorically refused to be friends with the old one. The new laptops did not want to see the old-timer printer point-blank, Wi-Fi was not configured. To eliminate the discord, it was decided to contact a computer company, and soon he appeared - a computer wizard, a space alien. "Where to go?" - asked the stranger, was led to the alien gadgets, rooted in a work chair and asked why he was actually here. I listed our problems, wishes - he did not listen, I showed something - he did not look. He was somewhere far, high from here, but at some point he nodded his head and proceeded to mysterious manipulations. His half-closed eyes opened, his fingers ran across the keyboard with unreal speed, he lived, he created, he was a god and a king. At his silent command, invisible signals were grouped and regrouped, rushed in the right directions and returned with the obtained programs … Then, when the lord of forces unknown to us finished and walked away from the computer, he was here for a couple of moments, but, disconnected from the life-giving feeding of electronic flows, he quickly lost charge and, going into energy-saving mode, disappeared from the contact zone. Saying goodbye, I again realized that he no longer saw me and did not hear.that he no longer sees and does not hear me.that he no longer sees and does not hear me.
And the technique … What about the technique? Working!
***
JAZZ PHILHARMONIC HALL is a philharmonic society of jazz music in St. Petersburg, a unique institution, but this is not about that. There are six at the table, among them a resuscitator and two cardiac surgeons, one of whom is here after a busy daily shift. Before the start, they managed to drink a double espresso and now listen to the roll call of the sparkling jazz diva and golden saxophones. Instead of "bread and circuses" they have "coffee and music". They listen, frozen, without blinking and hardly breathing. They sit in the same positions, with the same facial expressions. In the twilight, they become similar to each other, like drops of water. They do not notice the fuss with sandwiches at the next table and the strange bustle of the staff in the corner of the hall. They are completely dissolved in music, without a trace. After the concert, already on the street, lighting a cigarette, one of them notes in passing,that Goloshchekin today falsified on some note. The others with a silent nod confirm that there was a case, and say goodbye.
Such is the jam session, which literally translated from jazz into Russian means a pleasant pastime.
***
They are back. It happened in Roshchino, where we rented summer cottages for a health-improving walk for our youngsters in the fresh pine-berry-mushroom air. He rarely came: there was a lot of work in the city, and that time they went without children - together, he and she. It was a bright summer evening, warm, quiet, even mosquitoes were ashamed to spoil it with their annoying presence. In general, nature provided full grace for their silent walk. "Well, how?" someone asked when they returned. "Perfectly!" she replied. "Awful!" - he said.
She said that they enjoyed the silence and watched as the sun, magically solemnly, fell from the sky into the mirror-like motionless surface of the lake, painting everything around in all sorts of colors. How a misty haze rose over the bowl of the lake, and the sand still kept the remnants of the day's heat. What lovely boy and girl kissed by the water and how glad she herself was that he finally managed to escape from the city in order to rest a little … He looked at her in bewilderment: “Didn't you hear how disgustingly that drunken shouted a freak on the other side and how disgustingly his children squealed ?! An expression of endless suffering from a sound shock was reflected on the face of this metropolitan resident, who never perceived the transcendental noise of the city highway as a hindrance, multiplied by the rattle and rumble of a tram passing under the windows of their apartment …
***
It was quiet, very quiet, -
Night on the whole earth.
Only the alarm clock ticked timidly
On my desk.
It was quiet, very quiet, -
Quiet, quiet hour …
Only the alarm clock
ticked timidly, The mouse scratched in the corner.
It was quiet, very quiet, -
Slumber without worries …
Only the alarm clock
ticked timidly, The mouse scraped, Cricket squeaked
Yes, the cat purred.
It was quiet, very quiet, -
Quiet hour of shadows …
Only the alarm clock
ticked timidly, The mouse scraped, The
cricket squeaked, The
goat was mewing, The
cat
meowed, The piglet grunt insolently, The
bull roared
And two dogs
Amicably echoed in the darkness The
neigh of the horses.
(verses by Novella Matveeva)
