Omri

I took a cab to the gig that we had November 16th. As soon as I got into the cab and closed the door, the cabbie turned his radio back on. He had been listening to a symphony at the highest volume possible. I sank down into my seat and relaxed. It was glorious. What a spectacular cab ride.
The cabbie turned around to me at the next stoplight and said, "is that too loud?"
It was intense and dramatic, it wasn't too loud. "Not at all. I really like it."
He turned it down a bit and said, "It's a radio show where people call in and request the music that they would take with them if they were stuck on a desert island. This guy would take Mahler. What do you think about that?"
"It's a beautiful symphony."
"I'm asking because, well, I'll tell you what I think. I think most people would choose to take their favorite music with them on a desert island. They would take the most beautiful music."
"Yeah. Probably," I agreed.
He said, "If I were to choose what music to take with me if I were to be isolated somewhere, I would leave my favorite music behind. I would want to miss my favorite music and it would inspire me to get back to it. It would give me something to dream about, to strive for. I would have to get back to my music."

I'll miss you Omri. And it gives me something to dream about, to strive for, to get back to.