It is a beautiful day and I am supposed to be writing about Beethoven. Instead I am thinking about the fact that several enormous men (and I mean enormous. One of these guys looks like he�s got to weigh close to 400 pounds and I�m seriously afraid he�s going to have a heart attack on my lawn) are poking holes in our yard in hopes of rehabilitating our aging septic system. I really can�t think of anything less sexy to do with a couple of grand than preventing sewage from accumulating in one�s yard. And yet, oh-so-necessary.

The thing about Beethoven is I�m supposed to be thinking and talking about the music. His music�s good and all, but I�m really much more interested in the cult of Beethoven, Beethoven the romantic hero, Beethoven the rock star of his time. The sheer wealth of mythology about the guy is totally fascinating and really changed the way we tend to think about our great composers, even in retrospect.

The thing about sewage is that I�d rather not be thinking about it at all.

[Late second entry yesterday. Click back if you want to read about a giant cockroach]

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