Daily ritual

Switching nightmares for daymares

Never did I expect to reach a level of daily musical expectancy from a radio programme at the beginning of the day. For one thing, my attitude towards music so early has previously been ruffled by the sheer effort of priming my mind to listen properly. I can now say, with a touch of pride, that this inward rebellious spirit hurling insults at my new hobby has capitulated, leaving me to enjoy the music (well, most of it) at a time that has the wretched motorist commuter still at the bathroom stage of the morning ritual.

The awakening day, as tended by the soothing tones of BBC presenters, gently settles into a calm hitherto unknown to my prickly past, and I remain quietly triumphant, the more so as it becomes increasingly apparent that music, when you've rubbed the sleep from your eyes, has a freshening effect that induces you to give the new day a generous chance of doing the right thing for you. Yes, it can go wrong -- horribly wrong -- but your demeanour survives through it all. You may then look forward to the dawn of the next day when you face the same enticing prospects, this time possibly reduced to shambles by a power cut. Never mind, there's usually sheer joy (depending on the latest Government policy) of a restoration to normality within hours, to be followed by repercussive traffic jams for the rest of the day in areas remote to the power cut.

The sheer subtlety of it all hinges on our readiness to ignore the inevitable whilst deciding whether to take the dog for a walk or to sightread Liszt's B minor piano sonata.  Never forget the slogan: 'Modern living is good for you'.  And if you should pick the Liszt for an outing remember to limber up with a day of scales and a night of deep sleep.