How I Hit Rock Bottom in My Addiction to Classical Music

[Satzaroo]

I have always had an insatiable desire to collect classical music—whether it be medieval or postmodernist, orchestral, choral, tonal or atonal. Before I had enough money to buy Cd's, I'd frantically drive home after teaching class in order to be in time to tape a newly released Cd on the local classical music station. Luckily, I didn't run over someone in the process. But the most harrowing (and humbling) experience I have ever had at the altar of classical music occurred when I first began community college teaching. I found out that Pete T.,one of my colleagues, had an extensive collection of rare classical records—from Albinoni to Zwilich, each one in flawless condition—no pops, scratches, or crackles. Boy, did I salivate. Maybe, if I were ingratiating enough, he would let me tape some of them! I soon got my chance. Once when we listened to music at his house, I innocently asked him if I could borrow a few of his less cherished records. No problem, he said. I taped them that night, returned them the next day, and hoped that he would let me borrow more and more and more of these treasures from his holy grail. He complied, until only his most favorite records were left, ones he said he'd never part with. I accepted his position, but I still fantasized that one day he would relent. A week later, while we were hearing one of his special recordings, he seemed unusually downcast. Then he matter-of-factly said that I could tape those prized albums. Did I ask him why he changed his mind? No. Did I ask him why he seemed so glum, so resigned? No. I was flushed with the rush I got when he lent me those longed-for records.

The next day, the police called me. Pete had committed suicide, and since I was the last person to see him alive, they wanted to question me. I felt so much guilt—I had been oblivious to his depression: all I cared about was grabbing onto those last few records. Perhaps if I had talked to Pete, he might have shared his distress with me, and he might have felt less miserable, less alone, less hopeless. I was beating myself up with remorse. But it got even worse. When Pete's mother came to New Bern, she recalled that Pete had been so fond of me that she decided to give me his complete record collection.  What bitter irony. All that anxious taping was unnecessary. All he had to was die. I now realize that thou shalt not covet is more than abstract moralizing: it can hit home, brutally.

I still collect classical music—now, of course, it's Cds. I have more than 800 of them, methodically arranged by genre.  If I have a chance to purchase a new one at a bargain price, my heart flutters; but it no longer pounds. Despite an occasional relapse, thanks to what I learned from my experience with Pete, collecting Cds ihas become more of a pastime than an addiction.

[Scarpia]

What were those most cherished recordings?

[abidoful]

Quite a story---thank's for sharing ! Addictions are terrible. Also for me, there is an addictive element in classical music, especially about collecting stuff. I once became so weary of my collection and the futility of it, that I just got rid of a big part of it! After all, it's only stuff... No remorse =)

[Scarpia]

After all, it's only stuff... No remorse =)

It's music.  I have no affection for the discs themselves, but I value having a lot of music available to listen to when I want to.

[Satzaroo]

Pete's most cherished albums were baroque recordings on Archiv--mostly Bach and Telemann. The record he hated the most was Berlioz's "The Trojans." Pete, by the way, spent most of his free time doing mathematical proofs in relation to many of Einstein's theories and railing at Richard Nixon--he attended one of the impeachment sessions.

[Bulldog]

It's music.  I have no affection for the discs themselves, but I value having a lot of music available to listen to when I want to.

Right, and it's more than music.  I'm not much of a spiritual person, but any spirituality in my being comes totally from classical music.  So I don't go with the idea of classical music being an addiction - it's a gateway to enlightenment, understanding, compassion and a sense of the world. 

As for the acquisition of recordings, how many are too much?  There is no limit, as long as you're listening to them with full concentration and not simply looking at them sitting on a shelf.  Unfortunately, I don't always practice what I preach.  Just the other day I noticed that I had a Berlioz disc sitting in a drawer with the wrapping in pristine condition; I've had that disc for at least four years.

[Brahmsian]

Thank you for sharing this story, Satzaroo.  What a heavy, humbling experience. 

Depression is a complex, tricky disease.

[secondwind]

Giving away prized possessions to friends or at least to someone who will appreciate them is a ritual that frequently precedes suicide.  I remember a fellow graduate student in literature at UVa gave away some prized first editions during the week before he killed himself.  No one recognized the signs or knew that he was badly depressed and suicidal. 

[Mirror Image]

I own around 7,000 classical recordings, so if you want to talk addictions, I'm the man to talk to.

[abidoful]

It's music.  I have no affection for the discs themselves, but I value having a lot of music available to listen to when I want to.

Ok.

[Elgarian]

So I don't go with the idea of classical music being an addiction - it's a gateway to enlightenment, understanding, compassion and a sense of the world.

I hang my hat very firmly on that peg too (though I'd include visual art and literature as well). But if I'm honest, I already have more books, more pictures, and more music that I can possibly absorb properly during the rest of my life. Where my addiction comes in is in the shopping: the need to buy new pictures, new books, new CDs. I'm sometimes reminded, with a gulp of worrying recognition, of Ruskin's comment: 'Whenever the desire of change becomes principal; whenever we care only for new tunes, and new pictures, and new scenes, all power of enjoying Nature or Art is so far perished from us, and a child's love of toys has taken its place.'

[Scarpia]

I hang my hat very firmly on that peg too (though I'd include visual art and literature as well). But if I'm honest, I already have more books, more pictures, and more music that I can possibly absorb properly during the rest of my life. Where my addiction comes in is in the shopping: the need to buy new pictures, new books, new CDs. I'm sometimes reminded, with a gulp of worrying recognition, of Ruskin's comment: 'Whenever the desire of change becomes principal; whenever we care only for new tunes, and new pictures, and new scenes, all power of enjoying Nature or Art is so far perished from us, and a child's love of toys has taken its place.'

I subscribed fully to the first half.  Art is spiritually uplifting and ennobling.  I also have to admit that there is a certain obsessive character to the shopping side of it, in my case at least.  But I don't know about that Ruskin quote.  I always find myself wanting to absorb new music and new literature.  I don't equate that with novelty for novelty's sake.

[secondwind]

Ouch!  Ruskin's comment has the sting of truth. 

[George]

Ouch!  Ruskin's comment has the sting of truth. 

Indeed. I finally realized yesterday that I have already aquired enough music to last me at least for the rest of my life. Not only that, but I already own all of the recordings that I really want. It was a sad realization, for I do enjoy the hunt. Still, there's gotta be a way to listen, enjoy and occassionally buy. I am still in search of that elusive balance that I have heard about. One method I have used in the past is to simply stop buying. Then when really special stuff comes out, or presents itself, I can make an exception. Without doing that though, I find that desire has its way with me. 

[springrite]

Part of my collection comes from friends who passed away. First of all, composer-pianist Horace Martinez, who was a neighbor and the person who introduced me to classical music, left his collection to me. Most are LPs. I have only shipped part of that collection back to China, with the rest in the garage of a mutual friend of ours. Then, another friend and opera buff passed away and his family decided to give most of his collection to me. The majority are opera VHS tapes, with some opera boxsets. I donated much of that to the Los Angeles Children's CHorus when I left the US.

Mel (Iago) said he would leave his collection to me when I was with him after his heart surgery. I declined because I felt that he was doing so because he wanted to give up the fight. Had I accepted, he might not fight on. Of course he eventually recovered and lived another 12 years or so. I am happy for that.

[Scarpia]

Mel (Iago) said he would leave his collection to me when I was with him after his heart surgery. I declined because I felt that he was doing so because he wanted to give up the fight. Had I accepted, he might not fight on. Of course he eventually recovered and lived another 12 years or so. I am happy for that.

What became of his collection in the end, do you know?

[springrite]

What became of his collection in the end, do you know?

I do not know. I only know of one relative with whom Mel was in contact with, and rarely at that.

[Scarpia]

I do not know. I only know of one relative with whom Mel was in contact with, and rarely at that.

Oh dear, I hope they weren't tossed into a dumpster.   

[Elgarian]

But I don't know about that Ruskin quote.  I always find myself wanting to absorb new music and new literature.  I don't equate that with novelty for novelty's sake.

Remember he says ''Whenever the desire of change becomes principal; whenever we care only for new tunes, and new pictures, and new scenes...." He doesn't say we should never pursue them. (Otherwise how would we grow?) Besides, he should talk: he never stopped buying Turner watercolours!!

In any case, we don't have to agree with him; I just find it helpful to remind myself of that sentence now and then, and check out how things are going.

[MN Dave]

I desire new recordings less and less. A good thing I guess.