2016-1-24 – No actual votes have been cast yet, but the pundits are suggesting that next November’s election could be between Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders. No two candidates could be more opposite, so they say.

That’s what Michael Bloomberg wants you to think, because he’s looking to insert himself in the race as the guy in the middle between two extremes.

But the concept of opposites is funny. Not all opposites are opposite. Left and right are not the same as yes and no. I’ve written about that before (“Every Day Is Opposite Day! (No it Isnt!)”).

The thing that got me thinking about opposites today was the peculiar idea that “music” might have an opposite. When I think about the news, or pretty much anything else, a son pops into my head. This disability has become more acute in recent months as I work on adapting my novel Cain’s Mother-in-Law for musical theater.

I know what music is, but what would the opposite of music be? I know that, in times past, I have said things like “opera isn’t music” of “country isn’t music” or “atonal music isn’t music” or “rap isn’t music.” But that’s not really true. I’m not looking for something that is music that I consider bad or that I am unfamiliar with. In fact, over time, I have come to realize that these forms are music.

What I am looking for is something that captures the idea of “void” as the opposite of the “order” of music. At the moment, I don’t know what that would be. But I think that, if I am going to search for the opposite of music, I need a word for it.

I am proposing the word “frittery” as the opposite of music.

If you think of any examples of fritter, let me know.

Back to politics.

The interesting thing about Michael Bloomberg’s entering a three-way race for president is that we’re really not looking at two opposites and a middle. We’re looking at . . .

Three New Yorkers.

And if we go beyond the three, the other credible candidate, Hillary Clinton, is also a New Yorker.

Ted Cruz hates that.

* * *

Theme from New York, New York

By Kander and Ebb

Start spreading the news, I’m leaving today.
I want to be a part of it, New York, New York.
These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray
Right through the very heart of it, New York, New York.

I wanna wake up, In a colony that doesn’t sleep.
And find I’m king of the hill, top of the heap.

These little town blues, are melting away.
I’ll make a brand new start of it, in old New York.

If I can make it there,
I’ll make it anywhere.
It’s up to you, New York, New York.

New York, New York.
I want to wake up, in a colony that never sleeps.
And find I’m A-number-one, top of the list, king of the hill, A-number-1…

These little town blues, are melting away.
I’m gonna make a brand new start of it,
In old New York, and…

If I can make it there, I’m gone make it anywhere.
It’s up to you, New York, New York!