The Well Writ Obit

On any given day, a pass through the New York Times obituary page will take you to deceased subjects who are noted for a lifelong contribution to a certain endeavor. These endeavors are widely and wildly varied. They can include, like today, the man who put heart shaped bathrooms in Pocono hotel rooms, to authors, pilots, sports figures, scientists, media types, dancers, inventors, musicians, actors and actresses, politicians, criminals and police pioneers. Because of an obituary read, I know a good deal more about WD-40, the spray lubricant in the blue and yellow can a with the red applicator straw than, I would guess, most people. It's now more fun when I use it.

And on a given day, there can be one, or even six of these obituaries to consider reading. Of course they can all be read, but sometimes, with time and attention span to consider, a triage selection is made. Perhaps I'll eliminate the ballet person. I've never gone, to a ballet, not even to 'The Nutcracker,' so it's not likely I can appreciate the person's achievements.

So, when the obituary headline told me, "Victor Salvi, 95, a Virtuoso of Harp Making" had passed away, I was tempted to pass up the opportunity to read about him. I've seen harps played in classical orchestras, and particularly by the now deceased Derek Bell of The Chieftains,' a famous Irish group. I know there a lot of pedals involved, but I'm not sure I have the time to read about someone who made the instrument.

Following that impulse would have been a pity. Because then I wouldn't have read Margalit Fox's description of the sound of someone learning to play the violin at a very early stage of their desire to learn to play the instrument.

But the piece is about harps, right? Yes, and it goes that even someone just fooling around and plucking or stroking some strings can produce a pleasant sound, unlike the "feline altercation" sound produced by a violin novice.

And there you have it. You will never watch a movie or commercial scene of a youngster attempting to play he violin and not equate the sound with cats having a territorially dispute, a "feline altercation."

Being a fan of Margalit's sendoffs I emailed her and commented on the choice of words. I asked if she had been holding onto that description of sound for years and was waiting to finding the right time to use it. I call it the "well rehearsed ad lib."

She replied with an even better explanation. It just came to her while writing the piece. "As the great Red Smith used to say about writing on deadline, "God will provide..."

Moral to the story? Try not to pass up a single obituary.

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