The Story of Rachel, Greg and The Symphony Orchestra
We have season tickets to the symphony this year. This is a very, very big deal for me. For at least five years of my adolescence, I diligently asked my parents for tickets to go see the symphony in Bismarck. Every year, it was at the top of my list. They just sort of overlooked it. I grew up in a music culture devoid of actual string playing. Even in college, there was no orchestra. The presence of a violin or cello was scant. The first time I actually got to really go and hear the symphony was ironically when I was singing in the opera chorus for Carmen with the Bismarck Mandan Symphony while we lived there during medical school. The first time I actually sat in the audience for a true symphony concert was when the National Symphony orchestra toured North Dakota for it's artist in residency program.
The symphony orchestra here is actually excellent. They are superb considering that I don't live in a major city. The concerts are well attended. The symphony in this community is very well supported. I am tickled to death to have tickets to all the concerts this year.
Dr. Peds also likes the symphony. He's also very excited about actually being able to drag me out of the house at least once a month without any children in tow. And he's extremely excited about taking me out to eat, because he loves eating at interesting restaurants. He likes to use the symphony as an excuse to go to really fancy interesting restaurants since we're already dressed up. Often the fancy restaurants are places that serve things I can't pronounce. Because I really like plain food, sometimes this makes me a little nervous.
Last Saturday was symphony day. Our babysitter came. I was especially excited because the orchestra was to play one of my very favorite pieces, "Pictures at an Exhibition." We got a little bit of a late start out of the house (not at all unusual around here) but we made it to the restaurant out on the North Shore in time for our reservation. The place was classy, and I kid you not, the food was truly amazing. Usually I can take or leave fancy food (but just give me a bowl of macaroni and cheese . . . yum!) but this food was seriously probably the very best food I've ever eaten. It was phenomenal. It was the most luxurious eating experience of my life.
We also ordered dessert, which for me was a dish of pumpkin creme brule. Oh my goodness! Unfortunately, dessert took a bit of extra time getting to our table, and we almost had to leave before it arrived. So, we were gulping down the rich tasting delicacies as fast as we could.
We ran to our car after paying the bill. And then the trauma began. We missed a turn. We took a wrong turn, and although we weren't actually lost, we ended up driving on an extremely poorly maintained gravel road. By the time we actually got to the edge of town, it was seven o'clock, concert time. We were stuck behind the slowest moving car ever, and when we finally zipped into a parking space next to the auditorium, it was already 7:15.
As the time crept on and on, I became more and more sulky. I hate being late for things. I especially hate walking in front of people to get to my seat when I'm late. I was really grumpy because the symphony is a big deal to me, and they were going to be playing some really good music. I was upset because I didn't want to miss anything, and upset because I didn't want to distract anyone in the audience. And while I maintained a great deal of self control, I made it quite clear to my husband that I was not happy with this situation. I even suggested at one point that we just call it quits and go home. I was dreading walking in late THAT much.
We parked the car and ran across the road and parking lot, and as we near the doors I happen to notice a lot of people walking into the performer's entrance to the auditorium with instrument cases. I said out loud hopefully, "Maybe it actually doesn't start until 7:30?"
"Is this some kind of a joke?" My husband asked.
"No, I really thought it started at 7:00," I replied.
"Well, let's check the ticket."
And sure enough, I nearly fell right on my nose. The symphony did not actually start until 8:00! I was elated! Joyous! Thrilled beyond measure. And then I had to convince my husband that the situation was not a practical joke I played at his expense. After that, I had to suffer through him grieving about how fast we had to eat our dessert, when we really would have had plenty of time to savor the sweet delicacies.
We had to actually wait for the doors to the auditorium to even open, but when they did, the music was beautiful, well played.
To end the night, when we were walking back to our car, I pointed to a factory across the harbor and asked if my husband knew what it actually made because it had such weird distinctive smell at times. Right as I was pointing, looking up instead of down at my feet, I tripped, twisted my ankle and landed on the pavement! It hurt like crazy. And to think I haven't slipped and fallen for almost ten months this year! I had been growing so graceful! My ankle is fine now, although I did do a bit of hobbling for the rest of the evening.
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