Night of culture

Tonight I went to see my friend play in the orchestra at Franklin and Marshall. I felt like a little bit of a traitor since LBC was having its Christmas concert too, but I did stop by there to help serve at the donor reception after the concert. I got to eat the most amazing beet and honey topped crostinis. I know that sounds so disgusting, but I don’t mind a culinary adventure every now and then and everyone was raving about them, so I took one. Then, I took another. Then, I wished that the chef would just offer to send home a whole tray of leftovers with me. I asked what was in them, but alas, it sounded far too complicated for me to pull off on my own.

Then, I got to hear the orchestra play Sleigh Ride. I love hearing orchestras play Sleigh Ride. It made me nostalgic for my old church too because the orchestra would always have some fun with Sleigh Ride and put it into the Christmas program. You know you want to listen to it too now, so here it is.

I sat two seats down from an outspoken orchestra guru, so that made waiting for the music to start mildly interesting. He apparently must play in a symphony as well, and according to him, he’s an excellent oboe player. I learned from eavesdropping that his conductor apparently composed something that was “decent”, but the guru “could have done better given few months.” At one point during the Harry Potter score, the guru flung his hands up in seeming disgust (I recognized the gesture because I’ve made it during a number of Steeler’s game this semester). Then, he nodded to his mom a moment later, seemingly satisfied. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket and couldn’t sort a sharp from a flat if my life depended on it, so I had no idea what was going on. I’ve found that being talentless makes life more enjoyable sometimes because I can just enjoy what’s going on without critiquing it.

I even got a little love for the evening. I was leaving the performance center, and a little kid was walking across the sidewalk. I slowed up, knowing that little kids virtually never watch where they are going and always have the right of way. But, this kid was on a mission. He ran over to me, threw his arms around me, and said, “I’m going to hug you now.” His mom was mortified, but it was sweet. And awkward…but mostly sweet.

Then, to cap my night of culture off, I saw two college age guys climbing out of their car with fast food in tow, and here was the conversation between them:

Guy 1: Is my suit going to be ok?

Guy 2: Yeah.

Guy 1: I don’t want anyone to break into my car to steal my suit.

Guy 2: No one is going to break into a car to steal a suit.

Guy 1: I hope not. That’s my only suit.

He must have a hot date tomorrow night at some cultured event. More power to him; I hope he has fun like I did today.