Leap Year…
This February 29 (ever notice how so many people say Feb-YOU-ary? It’s Feb-RUE-ary, but why split hairs?) we celebrate the birthday of Rossini. An interesting and brilliant guy. He stopped writing operas when he was 39 (William Tell was his last) and decided to spend the rest of his life dining and partying. His parties were all the rage in Paris, and anyone who was ANYONE wanted to attend. By all accounts, he was a gourmet chef, and liked to eat as much as he liked to cook. Later in life, he started writing music again–his “Sins of Old Age” as he called them. He used interesting titles, like the “Would-be Dramatic Prelude” and “A Word to Paganini.” Although we hear his music a lot, we only get to celebrate his birthday once every 4 years.
When I was in 6th grade (Transfiguration Grade School, in Detroit) a classmate of mine, Ron Wrobel was a “leap year” baby. We all felt sorry for him, because he only had a birthday once every 4 years. Now, at my age, that doesn’t sound so bad…
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