I recall discovering the appeal of classical music at the same time as I became attracted to female breasts. Both are related to the same girl, although the music bit had more to do with her father.
My parents always had a record player in the living room and a small collection of long-playing records (for young folks, those are the large platters abused by DJs in discos). My mother must have listened to classical music, so I would have been exposed to the sound. I can recall things like Patti Page, Doris Day, the Platters, and the song Wayward Wind.
My father sold a plot of land, and a new house was built upon it. A Canadian family with two teenage daughters moved in. The older one was 18; she thought that she was beautiful, but was not. Her boyfriend was like the John Travolta type in Grease. Her father disliked him. The younger daughter was 16, two years older than me; she was cute, lively, and funny. Her father liked me (perhaps because he recognized my harmlessness). Sibling rivalry here was no contest: attitude vs. personality. But that's not the point...
Because she had moved to town in July, Cathy had yet to make friends at school; she latched onto me. She was the magnet; I was iron shavings. She had a car; I was available to go for a ride. I went along gladly at every opportunity. At that age, two year's difference is a bridge too far, when the boy is the younger one. I had no idea what to do, and she was no seductress. We were buddies; we had fun together, cruising in her new convertible. I recall my sense of pride and hoping that friends would notice me. It was a joyful summer, even if we never kissed. I do recall getting caught staring at the gap in her blouse: she grinned and said, "my boobs". I sure to have blushed, but do recall her beaming face. She could have been mocking me or been proud of having sprouted the bloody things. Getting caught did not prevent me from looking ever since. But, what does that have to do with classical music?
Her father was the manager of a large Canadian company. One of their promotional items was a collection of favorite classical melodies, pressed onto a long-playing record. He gave me one; I can't imagine why. He must have had too many, or meant it for my parents. I listened to it...and liked the music. I still have that disc, and have come to enjoy a wider range of classic music (not all, but some).
And, I still look at boobs...
Prior to writing novels, the author enjoyed a multifaceted career: from decorated combat aviator to advertising professional to global communications director of a major consumer brand. He has traveled the world and met sports, film and television stars, political leaders, and royalty. He graduated from Middlebury College, is married, lives in Germany, and has two grown children.