I Need The Comparison Like I Need a Hole in the Head

Attempts to prove the authenticity of Mozart’s skull were finally deemed inconclusive after months of tests. Someone had fun. The skull was acquired 10 years after Mozart’s death by a gravedigger no doubt keen to the rising interest in Phrenology. The Intelligent Design of its day, the pseudo-science of Phrenology claimed to discern personality from the study of cranial contours. I once saw a Phrenologist outside a String Cheese Incident concert at Variety Playhouse—I was walking to the Five Spot. He determined my personality as that of a man who attracts ticks.

Mozart’s turned 250 on Jan. 27. I turned 35. Mozart and I share a birthday … and nothing else. He was a child prodigy who grew into prolific adulthood creating masterpieces in a variety of styles and genres--ranging in scope from opulent spectacle to heart-melting intimacy—all before his death at age … Christ, 35?! So far I’ve written one pretty good jerk sauce bit … and nothing else. And annually I must mark my mortality in the shadow of one who trascended his. But who knows, maybe someday I’ll get skull-fucked by a forensic pathologist.

Those that can touch the sublime, do; those that can't must content ourselves to listen.