One day, I was on a long layover at the airport in Munich, and I happened to hear music coming from down one hallway of terminals. It was a harmonica; I knew that. I followed the sound and found the player, a lone man in an empty terminal just passing the time. There was no hat at his feet as to indicate he was asking for tips. I sat down and listened. He saw me and nodded as he played. I didn't know the tune, but aside from that, it didn't sound like any harmonica I had heard before. It was somber, and ominous, like it was meant to be played in mourning.
When he finished, I said "Sprichst du Englisch?"
He smiled "Nein, Ench."
I said "Wie heißt sie?" (What is it called?")
He said "Die Loreley".
I came over to him and motioned that I'd like to see his harmonica. My grandfather had played, and I wanted to know what was different with this harmonica. Why did it sounds so dark? As I discovered, it was in a minor key, and not just like E-flat or C-sharp, but a minor harp. (Something I did not know existed.)
I never forgot that moment, and I made a note that one day if I ever decided to learn to play, I wanted to minor harp. A few years ago, I stumbled across one, and I picked it up for a good price. I played with it a bit, and finally put it away out of frustration. I picked it up again a few days ago, and I'm actually trying to actually learn now.
Be thankful you do not live in my home at the moment. (Haha!)
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