Social Media Death. Also Mozart.

Oh hi. Well, that whole "I'm back" thing is only sort of sticking, but here I am, so that's something.

I'm singing the alto solos in Mozart's Coronation Mass this weekend. It is a beautiful piece, complex but clear in that particular Mozartian way. I will be thinking of a few things while I sing.

1. I'm really lucky to be singing this music right now.
2. I love music.
3. I need to call all of my friends from high school and tell them I love them.

Why this last one, you ask? Well, one of them just died. We lost touch and I hadn't spoken to him since probably 2008. But, in school, we spent a lot of time together. He was a language nerd like me, and he played piano. He was the only person at my science high school (which I loved, don't get me wrong) who knew what I was talking about when I talked about classical music. He was sardonic and sarcastic and smart. When I sang at graduation, he played.

It was June 2001, and the mayoral race was heating up. A bunch of democratic candidates showed up, flustered and late and apologizing for having been at a fireman's funeral. I remember us mocking them - oh, yeah, you're soooo great, you cut out on the bereaved to come curry votes with all the nice middle class liberals at the Bronx Science graduation - and then the valedictorian - we can all achieve greatness and 4.0 averages! - and then we went up. The tech dude tried to put a microphone out, and we said, no, no mic, and he looked at us like we were nuts. I have no idea how it sounded. It was a big theater, I was 17, and it was "Summertime." But, I am glad I got to sing with my friend. In the years afterward, in college when I felt like a total failure who couldn't learn how to sing properly, he always, always talked like it was a given that I had a beautiful voice, that I would sing great music.

I find the confluence of death and facebook to be one of the creepiest aspects of modern life. I found out about Alex's death on facebook. I messaged with his best friend about it. I liked some of his favorite music that she posted on his timeline. The timeline of a deceased person. It is as if we all have these ready-made digital mausoleums that we spend our lives curating. We memorialize ourselves.

Awkward attempts at reaching out to people will surely follow as I try to hold onto what was obviously lost a long time ago with Alex. Maybe I can get some email chains going, perhaps an odd phone call, real communication...madness! As I sing this weekend, I will think of Alex, and the friends he left behind, and the friends I am lucky to have.