Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, on January 7, 11, 16, and 22, 2025
Sometimes you reach a moment in life when you realize you just have to go with it, and in so doing you may find yourself in surprising places.
The above photo -- a day in January on which the tree has decided to keep a third of its autumn leaves, and the owner of the house has left on all the Christmas ornaments, while a rose blush blooms defiantly before it -- is one of those pictorial moments that now has found its way to the Hive Blockchain.
This right here is that kind of thing, memorialized in a piece of music.
They thought Beethoven had lost it with his Fifth Symphony, and the closing movement didn't help anything -- the bigness and boldness of this C major triumph after the long journey from the famous first movement is just as overwhelming, and utterly necessary. Beethoven just had to go with it, because if he had been in one of the "into greater darkness" moods as he is with his "Moonlight," "Tempest," and especially his "Appassionata" piano sonatas, I don't know if the Fifth Symphony would be survivable, emotionally. That's too big a symphony to have it wanting to drag us to doom.
Of course, me being the quietude-loving person that I am in my 44th year, I have a special place in my heart for this version, too ... 30 recorders? Yes.
... and I have just discovered Dutch-German composer Johann Wilhelm Wilms, whose C minor symphony, while resembling that of his slightly elder peer Beethoven, has a deep, poignant, poetic voice of its own.
Wilms, to me, represents the balance between big and small ... one can hear his mastery of that balance. One will never get the highest highs and lowest lows of Beethoven from anyone else -- he does stand alone -- but there is no need of comparison, for Wilms, too, though deeply influenced by Beethoven, stands alone, taking the same tone colors and general frame and painting a tone picture that has more subtle shades, all blended seamlessly ... like an electrum-lit winter day at Elk Glen Lake.
With all that in mind: I had been told the week of my birthday, to my face:
I have all year -- Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Frau Mathews! -- I have all year to spread that celebration out! Keep understanding and you will be enabled to understand more -- I promise you that! I am gladly and gratefully going to expand your understanding of how to receive generosity gladly and gratefully! I give you my word on that! It is just a matter of time!
I got to work after my birthday and found out somebody had bought up what looked like an entire flower shop's low-pollen collection for the day and just had the boardroom adorned ...
"This is the nicest, though!" a colleague said. "Whoever it is that has this kind of admirer, I hope she is good to him because this is amazing for all of us!"
But meanwhile, while people marveled at that, I found this left on my desk ...
... someone still paid attention between the balance between big and small, and my preference. With the big, he had blessed all around, but left a bar from Dandelion Chocolate -- a San Franciscan chocolate maker -- to meet my need for quiet, deep connection.
Meanwhile, I passed through Golden Gate Park Monday and eventually passed near the Music Concourse. Just it had been after Thanksgiving, the fanbase -- growing fanbase -- of K.M. Altesrouge was buzzing.
"I mean, every day, that man is smiling at almost every moment his mouth is not actually making some kind of vowel, but I wish I knew where the sun shines from that shines on him sometimes -- I mean, nobody is really singing all this old classical music any more, but if they had just been sensible and hired him, it would make a comeback!"
Of course he was right. Classical music had pretty much made a comeback in my life because of the singer in question!
"Folks, were you here Sunday, though? He, being the humble fellow he is, never competes with Sunday service and was probably sitting up singing bass on some hymn in the morning somewhere, but did y'all hear what he did on Sunday? I looked it up: that Lobgesang thing by Mendelssohn has eleven movements, and it takes a choir and two sopranos and a tenor to sing it. There ain't no bass in it, but he rearranged the whole thing, and if you saw him, there was no way that was a performance that he probably can or will ever repeat. He looked like he had just come from a performance in Heaven itself, and, being permitted to share as much as he could with us, had said to the Lord, 'I am willing to risk it all, that they might see and hear just the echo!'"
"I heard that echo in my heart," someone else said as they pulled out their handkerchief. "Something wonderful happened to that man last week, and his heart just burst for gratitude. He never puts the hat out on Sunday ... he just gives it up to God, and that is what he came to do yesterday."
Then finally, I heard the voice of his favorite commenter ... sure enough, the apparent heckler was really a caring fan, and I could see why the old basso profondo comedian of the opera stage just loved him ... .
"Look, I've been telling you people: if he's drunk, we need to find out where they sell it and start drinking too! If he is delirious, the fever is increasing and we need to get him to emergency immediately because that thing has already burned up whatever part of his mind that should be telling his body: ain't no way he can keep this up!"
"Yes, but, he seems to be getting younger and more energetic ... Herr Altesrouge is not as old as we thought!" said a woman who looked very, very bright at the thought of that.
"Yeah, but that is the worst possibility of all, people -- because if he is in love, and that woman breaks his heart after all this -- there's this song sung by this older German bass -- can't think of the name, but I know it rhymes with Darth Maul from Star Trek..."
Other people would get this voluble individual straight on all Darths being from Star Wars, and how to actually say Möll ... they had to because I was laughing too hard! But, he was on the right track, for he eventually pulled up Herr Möll singing Strauss's Der Einsame:
"That's the problem with falling in love!" said individual said. "I found the lyrics and threw them in Google Translate, and, see, this is not what we want for Herr Altesrouge -- I gotta get to him and explain the facts of life, because you cannot be out here getting sprung on these modern women!"
"Now, look here -- you must be drunk and delirious talking like that, and we don't want to drink or catch what you have!" another woman said.
"But maybe all of us are misunderstanding -- think about it," another man said. "You remember with all your loud talking how he reacted when you drove around the barricades talking about 'well, public transportation gets to do it and I'm your transportation because I can't let you walk home and have a heart attack' and insisted he let you drive him home!' He must have laughed across two or three octaves, but then you remember how he thanked you ... he just melts when anyone does anything extra for him!"
"I wonder if he had a hard time growing up -- I mean, he's German, and older than the fall of the Berlin Wall, so, I wonder," another woman said. "He acts like he went through so much that whenever he or anyone can do good around him, he just appreciates it like he knows he can't take anything for granted."
"Yeah, Altesrouge has seen some things, and he has some memories -- that thousand-yard stare does not lie," another man says. "If you have ever heard him sing the Agnus Dei from Beethoven's Missa Solemnis on a Sunday, and watched him ask God for mercy on us sinners, you know that man has been through some things that required mercy!"
"Which is why we gotta look out for him!" the self-appointed transportation fan said. "That man is not built for another heartbreak -- I'm telling you he is the type to just go on and leave here from grief because the man is all gas and no brakes and that type just can't be mishandled by people in the world and be OK!"
"But maybe we have this wrong," said another man, "because the way he was Sunday, I don't think he is unprotected. I think he knows Who and what he is singing about."
"Look, man, get this through your head -- God uses people to care for people too! Now we can't do everything, but I got a car and a big mouth and I'mma use them! I don't care what you are all saying -- I'm gonna talk with him because somebody has to!"
"Look, like I said before, you're the one who's drunk and delirious and you need to sober up real quick," said the fan who had made that observation before. "Just because he let you drive him home once doesn't mean K.M. Altesrouge is going to let you do what you think you are going to do! I have a uncle like him -- sweet, sunny, will do anything for you, and will knock you clean out if you even think about saying a word that might be even halfway against my aunt!"
"Yeah, man, you need to slow your roll, because I got people like that too -- and Altesrouge is big, man, in every way," said the fan who had observed the multi-dimensionality of the moods of the singer in question. "He is not to be played with. People like him don't get mad easy, but if you get somebody like him there, it's the end of the world, man."
"I don't care what you all are saying -- I'm going to sit him down and talk to him!"
I wanted to wait but had things to do, and did not know the singing schedule ... the Ghost of Musical Greatness Past had a life of his own, and I hated being in a crowd, so it was understood that rarely if ever would I be present while he sang for my supper.
Nonetheless, I was later than I expected to be in getting done with my business and back across the park, and wouldn't you know it ... there in the Music Concourse sat the Ghost of Musical Greatness Past, humbly listening to the facts of life from his biggest and loudest fan ... who was about to get a ticket for pulling his car into the no-drive zone for cars yet again, and then got ticketed and towed for having a bit too much to say to the officers, and might have gotten arrested had not the deep-voiced singer exercised his powers of conflict resolution. That voice could calm nervous systems, and thus tempers, right down!
Sometimes we get so busy trying to help other people ... this was the lesson!
"I can't believe that just happened!" the fan was saying. "I'm out here trying to help people, and these cops are just outta control!"
"English is not my first language, so you will have to help me -- isn't there a sign that says no cars here?"
"Yeah, but -- I mean -- I mean, but, but -- ."
"And I have heard the tickets and impound fees in San Francisco are ridiculous -- but let us see what is in my hat today, because I think I can help you out of this situation."
"Oh, no, Herr Altesrouge -- no, I can't! I'm trying to help you out!"
When the rescuer has to be rescued and the teacher becomes the student ... I knew that was going to be some conversation, and it was going to be all too real in the fanbase on Tuesday ... but I had to leave, between being too tickled and too convicted ... for I was a rescuer in a wreck in 2022, and had to learn the exact same lesson!
Looking back from 2025 ... on a day on Alamo Square Hill, my second favorite ...
... looking on entering a new year in which I am humbled and content to walk, abide, adorn, and appear where I am called and to make deep efforts in all things in the way of that, but not outside. Not that new people will not cross my path to whom I am called to do good, but there is a difference between doing good to all in the path and trying to change paths to get into situations one is not called to be in.
And then, the needs of the people to who I am called are so deep ... I must learn and grow still so much more to continue to become who they need, and then do the things ... and then rest ... and celebrate?
Then I remembered: I had a version of this lesson in 2024, too, at the dawn of summer. Toward the end of that lesson, I had been told this:
"You are not unlike Ambrose Bierce, Frau Mathews, in that you are aware of the height and depth of matters in the midst of everyday life, and you add with that a mind such that you see all events and people flowing from eternity past through all known recorded history and the present into eternity future, all in a great arc of redemption offered, accepted, or rejected. That is a way of viewing life that is so intense that transient things like pomp, circumstance, fame, fortune, and champagne might not be deep enough to move you, though they move those heedless to the deeper realities of which you are keenly aware.
But also ...
"I have said to you recently that you understand the side of loving deeply, Frau Mathews, but you have yet to fully understand the side of being deeply loved. Know for certain that as you attend faithfully to what you do thoroughly understand, you are permitted and shall be fitted to understand, thoroughly, what is not yet clear to you. Love will overtake you, and may well carry you to heights even in this world that you cannot conceive of yet. Be faithful in those things given to you, and you will learn in good time as you go!"
So, back to this big celebration ... the flowers and the chocolate ... was this how it was actually supposed to happen, in the midst of life, all part of the lesson plan in helping me understand?
"Oh, I love it when my students have questions -- when the mind is just going -- my lesson planning is working! Mwahahahahahahahahaha!"
"OK, I think it was settled decades ago that nobody is taking you for a villain, so you don't have to laugh down into that double-deep octave about it!"
Which of course, he instantly did -- to his delight and mine -- and then materialized next to me on the bench where I had stopped to sit and think with this glorious view before me:
"How swiftly you have taken last week's lessons into your heart and are walking in them!" he said. "And already you see the blessedness of the deepening of your already considerable patience upon your elders, students, and grand-students! Already you have heard that more of those you had to leave behind are coming around as well -- though perhaps not to climb directly with you, but finding the ropes and routes you fixed! It took you thirty years to get last week's lessons, but when you were ready, they came right on time!"
"Yes ... oh yes ... ."
I remember such a sense of the height, and depth, and width of the blessing, and became so overwhelmed with gratitude ... I remember that I gave thanks and praise in three languages and that I was weeping ... but like it sometimes is on an exceedingly beautiful day when I think of the goodness of my Creator to me, or listening to a exceedingly beautiful passage of music, I soon will forget to breathe until my autonomic nervous system knocks me out so it can get my breathing back on track! When it happens, it is quick -- just a few minutes, and I can go!
I do not know how long it was before I began to come to myself, but my first experience was the double embrace of the voice and arms of my companion. His double-deep voice, at its sweetest, exceeded my capacity for beauty as well ...
"Rest with me a while, Frau Mathews. There is no hurry, nor can there be."
I was perfectly happy to see the Milky Way on a black midnight ... back to the Knockout Zone for a little while longer!
When at last I came fully to myself, he helped me sit up and left an arm round me, his face eloquent in its concern.
"I am still a bit emotional around my birthday," I said, and his concerned look became more poignant as he smiled slightly.
"I do not chide you, Frau Mathews; I am your friend, who overtook you sitting on purpose because I understand why your feelings of gratitude have gone to a higher level. I also understand why that might happen after you topped this hill. Was not your last follow-up appointment at the hospital a bit of an adventure?"
"Just a little bit," I said. "I took my time coming up here, pacing myself carefully, and most of the time, I will be doing what you see me doing now: walking to enjoy a sit!"
"It rejoices me to see you responding in wisdom, Frau Mathews, and leaning into your blessings. Now, what I bought for my persuasion of you becomes instead another blessing brought by wisdom."
Now this was a lesson, immortalized in a Clipper card paid up to the maximum to take care of bus rides all winter!
"Danke schön!" I said. "How thoughtful!"
"Bitte schön, mein geliebtes Blumenkind -- gern geschehen," he purred, with a soft smile.
"Speaking of blessings," I said, "thank you for the wisely delivered flowers and chocolate. The chocolate was so delicious -- all those notes of cherries, tart mangos, bananas, pineapple -- that was like a chocolate-covered fruit salad!"
His smile got bigger with every descriptor I mentioned, finally reaching its full, dazzling glory.
"You are most welcome -- gern geschehen," he purred, his voice deep with satisfaction that lingered as he continued.
"I have a great collection of nicknames for you now, Frau Mathews, both affectionate and instructive in purpose. You are indeed meine starke Kletterin ... my strong climber, climbing away relentlessly from foolishness when you can -- but let all souls beware bringing you 'the foolery,' lest they meet the Iron Maiden -- I will upgrade that to Iron Woman, or, of course, meine Eisernfrau.
"But, meine Tochter -- even to meine Töchterlein -- I remind you that I echo a Heavenly Father Who is almighty in His love and tenderness and gentleness toward you ... and of course since you respectfully upgraded me from being teased by my friends on high by the name of that rose, Old Blush, by making me Herr Altesrouge, I also quite quickly turned around and took San Francisco's famous Haight Street phenomenon of the Summer of Love, the flower child, and named you Frau Blumenkind. I mean by it something that does include the historical context, although you certainly do not need any illegal substances because you on gratitude can get to a natural high that the world knows nothing of. I will explain why a little later; it has to do with the nature of what gratitude is, in its proper context.
"But consider ... my beloved flower child, mein geliebtes Blumenkind ... my golden flower child, mein goldenes Blumenkind, playing rhetorically with the idea of you being marked out to be a golden child to your family and community, and the complication of the legacy, since being such a one is not the easiest legacy to manage. Yet you are different, being called apart and gifted accordingly. But you are not a golden idol -- you are wise to refuse celebrity because of the humility of greater things. A flowerbud in the morning sun ... or a ripe fruit in the golden light of summer and autumn ... either one can be thought of as a Blumenkind, a flower in immature form, or the child of a flower ... are things that have beauty and delicacy commensurate to the fact that life depends on both, though they are daily taken for granted."
"You have done some thinking about all this," I said.
"I must set forth a proper example for you, Frau Mathews. I should hope that never again will you give close access to people who are not willing to know and understand you, and ... ."
He paused, and I sensed the deep stirring of his emotions, though he remained calm.
"... I would hope and I deeply desire that you should build the expectation in yourself that no one may say ich liebe dich without also being able to say not only ich kenne dich -- I know you, in the sense that we know people who are familiar to us in a familiar way -- but even, although it would be an uncommon usage, ich weiss dich ... I know you in the sense that I am wise to you ... I have wisdom about you. We know in English: 'Familiarity breeds contempt,' but wisdom and love build upon themselves, for all eternity. Brahms set that promise of Scripture from I Corinthians 13 to music in the fourth and last of his Serious Songs ... that we shall one day know as we are known, and when faith and hope are fulfilled, the greatest of those three, love, goes on forever."
"I remember that ... I remember who of all the singers I have ever heard sings that with the most depth of feeling, too," I said. "I have checked!"
"But you are hopelessly biased!" he said, and started laughing.
"Guilty as charged -- indeed, du weisst mich -- you are wise to me!"
"I cannot sing this again without increasing your confirmation bias!" he said. "Yet I will risk it!"
[The timestamp is 13:15]
That great favorite Brahms song of mine is all about love being essential and in fact the greatest of all things, and in between, how one day those who walk in love will know both it and each other clearly. I actually have enjoyed many singers singing it, but of course ... .
"I remain hopelessly biased," I said.
"I can no longer be flattered," he said as he laughed, "but I can be grateful!Danke schön!"
"Bitte schön!" I said as I laughed because his laughter was such a joy.
After some time, he continued.
"I now show you ich kenne and ich weiss in a different way. Many people know you -- they ken you, as has even survived in remote British English dialects -- as the Iron Woman, who can be wearied and even ill, but bounces back, resilient, to make sure they have what they need. You, on the other hand, love them and know them -- you wise them -- in looking beyond their faults and seeing their needs and loving them as they need to be loved. Do you see, Frau Mathews, that this is uneven? Now, I do not chide you; I am your friend. You are a native English speaker in a culture that does not even want you to know -- to be wise -- to such difference. I merely make the point that you were led to study German for a reason!
"I further make the point, Frau Mathews: most people literally do not have the language to discuss these matters as we are learning to do, so what you can look for and listen for is the practice, the lived expression. We speak often of the practice of medicine, the practice of an art, the practice of faith, of even community centered and faith-based practices. All of these are aspects, facets, of the practice of a life lived in accord with love and wisdom."
I thought about this for a moment as a memory came to me.
"Speaking of the practice of the faith best known in both our cultures ... where we have had such trouble in Germany and here is a great misunderstanding of what Christianity is for. Yes, indeed, the Lord Jesus Christ saves all those Who believe on Him from their sins, but many people at different times have practiced that in terms of that meaning they can be as sinful as they want and then be absolved of it when they are ready. That is how one gets to people who name Christ practicing anti-Christ mindsets and actions that are also so anti-human. They think it will be worked out later -- and it will, but we know our history and need not discuss that here!
"How I understand love itself stems from the fact that, in Christ, there is a promise made from the Father, that His own will not only be saved, but conformed to the image of Christ Himself, sinless and holy -- not that we will achieve that in this life, but that we are called to be progressively sanctified, more loving, more merciful, more righteous, more set apart from the evil practiced by those not so called. In practical matters how this works is, as we come to know Christ better, and trust the promises, we are at the same time equipped by the presence of the Spirit to do what is in accord with that calling, supported and filled by His infinite love to the point that people see His light and love and are drawn also to Him.
"So then, even considering the echo of that, shall we say, in common grace, we see that all loving relationships that last any amount of time are those in which beloveds are accepted as who they are and have the support of love to heal, grow, and become who they are in greater fullness, from which they then impact the world around them. It is not an exact match ... but we spoke of fractals last week, and how they complement each other ... but also there are fractal patterns in Creation that are like every snowflake, every daisy ... self-similar, though not a copy. Love inside being finite has all kinds of variations -- no two human relationships are the same -- but all of them that are loving are self-similar ... in easier terms ... they all echo Love Infinite."
"Very good, Frau Mathews. Now with that you may see that when I say to you that I am just the echo, yes, I self-deprecate my importance in submission to the One Who selected my voice to echo love into your life, but also to leave room for you to understand: I am not the only echo. I seek to be a good model, so that you may consciously listen for the echoes and watch for the practice.
"Think again of all I have now said in light of the way I sang to you in the language of flowers and chocolate at your workplace. Because I know you, I knew that because you are unselfish, and because of your wise understanding of human nature, you would have preferred that I adorn the boardroom so that everyone would be blessed, and no one marked out for the love they do or do not possess.
"I also knew you would smile about that piece of fair-trade chocolate I left on your desk that no one but you would see or understand ... how you have compassion for those growing chocolate under unjust conditions and would prefer not to invest your money into the companies responsible for those conditions. Ich weiss dich, mein geliebtes Blumenkind ... about your willingness to live a humble life because of your iron resolve that you will not support injustice for profit to other human beings, so far as it falls within your discretion.
"Now, it is surely occurring to your mind: 'Drunk, delirious, in love, or all three -- that man went and bought up an entire flower shop!' And, with that being possible, I clearly have the resources to do what many well-off men do in their ego about a woman: they can show off to the world as another well-adorned thing they have. Many women, being materialists as well, desire this kind of relationship, not wise enough to know: they will only be in such men's life as long as they serve them in their real love pursuit: themselves, and their pursuit of enthronement and deification in their own and others' eyes. There are also women pursuing precisely the same kind of goal in their choice of men -- and so, since neither can achieve an impossible goal, one or both will create conflict and heartbreak that will displace and ultimately destroy any love that is there."
"But ... aber ... aber ich weiss dich, mein geliebtes Blumenkind. I am never intentionally going to operate out of accord with wisdom about you, because love and wisdom cannot quarrel with each other. Now, I am still human, so I can make well-meaning mistakes ... sometimes I still do get carried away."
He smiled ... and then blushed.
"I almost did buy up the whole flower shop...
" ... but then I remembered that the boardroom is only so large, and you did not need to have a spring allergy attack in January!"
I was so tickled by this that it tickled him ... complementary basso profondo harmony in laughter with contralto is a beautiful thing, I tell you!
"I've seen you do this in interviews but I am never ready," I said. "You can be in the most serious vein and then just turn the corner and have everybody just cracking up!" I said.
"I am an old professor, and I understand the use of humor," he said demurely. "You are one of the few who can engage in deep discussion for an extended period of time ... but you know better than to communicate with most others that way."
Then he grinned.
"Also, mein goldenes Blumenkind," he purred, "any old comedian will tell you: we love a quality audience that is easy to please!"
I was gone laughing again, being the quality audience that I was, and his grin gentled itself into a soft glowing smile of which the glow lingered ... as he was known to do, he was emotionally pacing himself, because like I had my moment of being overwhelmed earlier, he was in route to his. Yet because he was a master communicator, he would remain in control until the moment when the reveal of his emotions made the most sense. The only hint that this was happening was that his glow was slowly increasing.
"I told you that I would tell you a little more about gratitude, and why you need little else ... you are also an intensely loving person, and that is a large piece of the puzzle. But consider this about an echo, Frau Mathews. Musically, the best traditions of your own people contain the famous call-and-response ... which can be thought of, if the same words or phrases are used, as echo play."
"Cab Calloway was famous for that," I said.
He smiled.
"I remember," he said. "I was nine years old when the world learned of the Hi De Ho Man -- and what a powerful voice he had!"
"Now it is generally held that living in an echo chamber is not what you want, but this is not true. It depends on what is echoed, as the great Herr Calloway demonstrates so well. The most important thing your parents taught you was 'thank you.' From here to eternity, gratitude is the echo of love to the giver, so if love is met with gratitude, there is not loss but gain in the energy of the exchange, and there is no actual limit in the gain except that we are finite, and can be overwhelmed. So when you, now having four decades of conscious memories, begin to think back on all the ways you have been blessed and give thanks to the One Who has called you, that intense meeting of love and gratitude can get above your finite limits quickly!
"Now, presume all manner of relationships between deeply loving people, in common grace, and then also in special grace, presuming the same calling to faith that you have. How powerful can the echo get, between and around them?"
"To the extent that everyone seeks to walk in love, even assuming just common grace, that can get very loud! As for assuming special grace, well, you have pretty much described as much of the sound of heaven on earth that we shall ever hear!"
He smiled, and in doing so, glowed up an order of magnitude.
"Excellent, Frau Mathews -- you have it. You observed earlier: sometimes you just have to go with it, and in doing so you will reach surprising places. I have been saying to you, walk, abide, adorn, appear, and you have been going with it! Now you understand a new facet of where you are going, as you are going, in the midst of life."
"I do ... I see it and hear it!"
It seemed to me that the whole universe expanded to me ... more of it was opened to my mind ... more possibilities to make connections with others and how ... this was deep, and I would have to think over it for quite some time.
"Danke schön -- ich sehe!" I said.
"Bitte schön, Frau Mathews, mein goldenes Blumenkind."
Now he had just said to me, "From here to eternity, gratitude is the echo of love to the giver, so if love is met with gratitude, there is not loss but gain in the energy of the exchange." Yet he remained calm, and walked me home at a relaxed pace on the sunny side of the street, thus concealing his intensifying glow. Yet that night I dreamed again of intense auroras that had come down all the way to San Francisco's skies ... a view from Buena Vista Hill of a winter midnight, all the Milky Way on black velvet, caressed with fire.
I rejoice to say that when I was next going through Golden Gate Park, no one was heckling the fan who had learned the same lesson I had. He had learned his lesson and was keeping more quiet, and was getting plenty of cover because ...
"Herr Altesrouge is lit up -- he has been out here four days, about to burn the whole park down with his singing!" another member of the fanbase said. "On Sunday I was sure Heaven must be missing a singing seraph -- not one of those cute baby cherubs, but a burning angel, in essence! Have y'all even considered the possibility?"
I went and tuned up the Q-Inspired physics. I can already tell 2025 might get a little wild ... but sometimes you just have to go with it ...
