Encounter Einstein Night

  At the beginning of the art industry, I was fortunate to be invited to be a guest at the mansion of a famous philanthropist in New York. After the dinner, the hostess took us to a spacious living room. As the guests entered the hall one after another, my eyes touched the neatly arranged small gilded chairs, as well as several delicate musical instruments placed in the corners, and my heart suddenly felt uneasy.
  It seems that I can’t escape tonight’s chamber concert night.
  The reason I was so disturbed was that I was so musically blind that I struggled to sound even the simplest of tunes, let alone highbrow music. Based on his music, to me it’s just a bunch of boring noises, it doesn’t make much difference. Faced with the situation in front of me, I have my own way to deal with it: take a seat calmly, without changing my face. When the music starts, adjust the facial expression to the “intoxicated” state, as if immersed in it; in fact, the brain has already rested, the ears have been closed, and the mind is full of imagination, wandering on its own in the wisps of irrelevant thoughts.
  After a while, I noticed that the people around me were applauding, and I knew it was time to open my ears. At this moment, a voice came from my ear, softly, but very penetrating: “Do you like Bach very much?”
  To be honest, Bach’s music is similar to what kind of nuclear fusion, and I have no concept in my mind. But I still recognized the face in front of me. His gray hair was messy, and a pipe was casually held in his mouth. With a pipe in his mouth, that is his signature image. Yes, sitting next to me is Einstein.
  ”Uh…” I was at a loss for a moment. Such a casual question should have been answered easily, but at this moment, my heart was filled with unease and hesitation. This extraordinary neighbor conveyed an extraordinary look, and what I heard was not just an ordinary greeting. I understand that he values ​​my answer. In front of him, no deception, even a trivial lie, is allowed.
  ”I’ve never heard Bach’s music and don’t know it,” I whispered sheepishly.
  A flash of consternation and confusion flashed across Einstein’s expressive face.
  ”Never listened to Bach’s music?” The
  astonishment was like hearing that I never took a bath.
  ”It’s not that I don’t want to appreciate it, but unfortunately I’m a music-blind person who doesn’t know anything about melody and has never really appreciated any music,” I hurriedly explained.
  Hearing this, he turned into a kind old man with a look of concern on his face. Suddenly he begged, “Come with me, please?”
  Immediately, Einstein got up, took my arm, and led me through the crowded living room to the outside. I was at a loss, so I could only stare at the carpet under my feet, feeling apprehensive in embarrassment. This scene caused everyone to whisper, but Einstein himself didn’t care.
  Einstein led me straight upstairs. Obviously, he was very familiar with the house. We came to a study room, surrounded by books, and the atmosphere seemed indifferent and peaceful.
  ”Tell me, how long have you held this view of music?” Einstein asked with concern, smiling.
  I immediately became nervous, and replied cowardly, “It’s always been like this. Dr. Einstein, you’d better go back and listen to music. It doesn’t matter if I can appreciate it or not.”
  Einstein shook his head, showing a trace of displeasure, Dissatisfied with my answer.
  ”Please tell me, what kind of music are you interested in?” he asked.
  ”I like to listen to music with lyrics, songs that I can go along with.”
  Einstein smiled and nodded, seeming to have a satisfactory answer. “Can you give me an example?”
  ”Ping, I like all of Crosby’s songs,” I said with courage.
  He nodded again and said briskly: “Very good.”
  Einstein walked to the corner of the study, turned on the gramophone, and rummaged through the pile of records. I looked at him uneasily. Finally, he picked up one and shouted happily: “I found it!”
  He put the record into the gramophone, and suddenly, Bing Crosby’s lighthearted and cheerful “When the Blue of the Night and the Day of the Day” sounded in the study When the Gold Converged”. Einstein beat the beat with his pipe and looked at me with delight. After about three or four lines of lyrics, he paused the music.
  ”Can you tell me now what you just heard?” he asked.
  At the moment, my first reaction was to sing along. I try to keep myself from being out of tune and not breaking the tone. Einstein’s smiling face was as bright as the rising sun.
  ”That’s it! Who said you don’t have an appreciation for music!” he said excitedly after I finished singing.
  I disagreed, so I whispered: “This song is one of my favorites. I’ve heard it hundreds of times, and it doesn’t mean anything if I sing along.”
  ”Nonsense! This explains everything! I still remember my first Arithmetic class? If the teacher comes up and asks you to do difficult problems like long division or fractions, can you figure it out?”
  ”Of course not.”
  ”That’s right!” Einstein waved triumphantly Pipe in hand. “You can’t figure it out, and the more you can’t figure it out, the more you’re afraid, until you no longer have any interest in long division and fractions. Maybe it’s because of this teacher’s mistake that you can’t feel long division for the rest of your life. and the charm of fractions.”
  Einstein waved his pipe again.
  ”But no teacher will let you do such a difficult problem from the beginning. The teacher will teach you the basics, and then guide you step by step to solve long division and fraction problems.”
  ”The same is true for music.” Einstein said from The gramophone took out the Bing Crosby record. “The melody of this song is simple and catchy, like the simplest addition and subtraction. If you master it, you will be able to understand more complex mathematical operations.”
  Einstein found another record and put it on the into the gramophone. In an instant, a song “Drum and Trumpet” resounded through the house with John McCormack’s golden bell-like voice. This time, Einstein still only put a short paragraph for me.
  ”Please sing it again, please?”
  I did, still a little nervous, but with unexpected precision.
  Einstein stared at me, and the expression reminded me of my father: at the high school graduation ceremony that year, when I delivered a speech as the valedictorian, my father sat in the audience with the same joy and pride on his face as the expression of Einstein in front of him now. .
  ”Great!” Einstein cheered for me when I finished singing the song. “Very good! Listen to this again!”
  This time, the play is a classic section sung by the famous tenor Caruso in the one-act play “Country Knight”. Although I didn’t understand this part at all, I tried my best to imitate it. Einstein smiled contentedly.
  After Caruso, we listened to a dozen more. From beginning to end, I was amazed at the importance this great man in front of me gave me, as if I was the only one in his world of thought, even though we just met by chance.
  Gradually, Einstein began to play pure melody and guided me to hum the tune. As I sang high, Einstein opened his mouth and tilted his head back, as if to help me with the impossible task. Suddenly he turned off the gramophone, apparently thinking that was enough.
  ”Young man, now we can go and listen to Bach!” Einstein said, taking my arm and walking out.
  When we returned to the living room, the musicians were already playing new pieces. When seated, Einstein smiled and tapped my knee, giving me confidence.
  ”Open your heart to listen, that’s all,” whispered Einstein.
  Of course, it’s much more than that. That night, for the first time in my life, I felt the charm of Bach’s music, and it was all thanks to this neighbor, who cared so much for me, a stranger who never knew him. After that, I listened to the chapter “The Flock Grazing in Peace” several times, and I never got tired of listening to it, because there was a great man who always accompanied me. The short and fat body, the messy white hair, the pipe that was often in my mouth but had long since been extinguished, and the pair of eyes full of curiosity and passion for the unknown world, I will never forget it.
  After the concert, I couldn’t help but applaud. This time, I really applaud.
  After the applause, the hostess came to us. “It’s a pity, Mr. Einstein, you missed a lot of wonderful performances.” The hostess said, looking at me with cold eyes from time to time.
  Einstein and I hurriedly got up. “I’m very sorry too. But I did one of the most amazing things human beings have done with my young friend.”
  ”Oh? What’s the matter?” the hostess asked in confusion.
  Einstein put his shoulders on my shoulders, smiled at me, and at that moment, I knew that I was one of many bathed in his favor. Just listen to him say leisurely: “Open another new world at the border of beauty.” This sentence became the epitaph engraved on Einstein’s tombstone after his death.