I HAVE A MASK, BUT I DIDN'T EVEN PUT IT ON LAST NIGHT

Having filled last week with Halloween entries, you know I like the holiday or more specifically the season. My mask, a St. Louis Cardinal fan face mask, sat on the shelf awaiting the next grandkids visit. I don't have an Orenthal James mask. Nor would I wear it if I did.

With the World Series over, with the NFL season over (well for a Rams fan who likes the Cardinals somewhat--you see there's something about USC players that I don't like whether it be Simpson or Leinhart, although the latter is much preferred over the other guy), the college game is not played on Wednesday night. No Friday Night Lights, no Heroes, no other shows I watch that aren't sports, so I went to a play last night.

I don't know how you call it a play. Maybe a performance. Maybe a concert. About Chopin. By a guy named Hershey Felder. He was excellent in Gershwin in San Diego, so we thought we would try him in Chopin. We're glad we did.

Now my classical music knowledge all came from my freshman year of high school when we had to take a required course in Music Appreciation. Most people couldn't stand the class, but I really liked it. It was more meaningful to me than my Social Studies class, but anyway(s) that's the scope of my classical music education.

Hershey Felder was again simply great. Besides being a skilled pianist and great actor, he uses his audience calling out several of them during the salon scene for the final 30 minutes. It was at this time that Chopin really got good. His story about Chopin being afraid of premature burials forged the great tale of how his heart was taken to Poland while his body remained in Paris. Where he is buried today next to Jim Morrison.

It was an interesting way to spend Halloween. Mr. Beckmeyer, my Music Appreciation teacher, would be proud.