"Yes, I do like Philip Glass."
"Oh, thank God, I thought I was going to be judged for that for some reason."

My old piano teacher came over for dinner last night. I didn't talk much, because I had just woken up from a nap on the sofa.

She talked a lot about how awful the people were at wherever it was that she was working. Somewhere north, I think. She had also been studying religion. All of our family friends are always a bit irritatingly religious. She also complained about her neighbours, in the same way that my mother complains about her co-workers. That was dull. I think a lot of women have nothing to talk about except to complain about other people they know.

Playing in the background was a carefully curated playlist of well-known, influential, critically acclaimed, etc. songs designed to elicit some kind of response (e.g. wtf is an Arcade Fries?). That did not work in the way that I intended, so I tried playing a Pixies album. No response, so I gave up politeness and put on Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, which is practically impossible to ignore. She made a face, and asked if I actually liked this kind of thing. Yes, I got the side-eye for liking Stravinsky. I don't even...

She was unfamiliar with the Vienna Philharmonic, didn't know anything about Bruckner, didn't recognize Arvo Pärt, and didn't seem to approve of Mahler. I expect better from teachers. I learnt everything I know of music just this year, and just from hanging around the music classroom. For free.

Then again, the first music teacher at QASMT bought Maroon 5 and Jet music books. Ha.