I want to teach a music class. I’m not interested in creating Paganini or Caruso; I don’t want to drive them to distraction practicing. I want to see the wonder in their eyes when they hear the 1812 Overture, with the cannons. I want to see their recognition when they hear “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” and know that it’s not some random jingle-writer but Mozart himself. I want to share the emotionally charged music that has made my life worth living and easier to get through. I want to tear up with them, listening to heartfelt emotions in flute and violin. I want to work to the end of the earth, as horns call us onward and snare drums spur us. I want to weep and cringe at ominous low strings, and dance with the banjo and harp. I want to hear rippling water in the notes, and storms.