Warm Jello For Dinner, Must Be The Early Bird Special...



So last night began with my friends and I finalizing plans to attend the symphony. I panicked because I had no idea what to wear. I pictured ball gowns and tuxes. Then I remembered where I live (small town, not a big cultural hub). I went with work attire (which is always painful to wear when you're not working). I was a little freaked because I had to park several blocks away from the concert, and the concert theatre is in a bad part of town. Images of stolen cars and mugging ran through my head as I tried to remember everything I learned on Oprah to prevent a kidnapping. Luckily I managed to make it to the restaurant without having to scream at the top of my lungs "that's my purse!" or run in a zig zag pattern to avoid being shot. The restaurant we chose is across the street from the theatre in a hotel. One would think that would have spelled easy supper. But not when the Dixieland Festival is town. I walked into AARP Command Central. There was a long line to the even put your name down for a table and standing in it I realized I was the youngest person by about 50 years. And I was the most casually dressed. I saw more seniors in mini skirts or short dresses than I ever have before (or hope to see again). And lots of snazzily dressed gents, escorting their lovely ladies. And the person behind me in line was knitting to pass the time. We talked as she knitted and she was hilarious. It was like talking to 70 year old me, because she made fun of what everyone was wearing, and she totally encouraged me to lie to get faster service. I hope I look as good as her at 70 (you know, as in have a great set of dentures and most of my hair), and still have a great sense of humor.

The food was okay. I chose the dinner buffet because the jello parfait looked good. Needless to say I chose poorly. We made it the symphony in plenty of time to get settled and I learned something about myself. I need lyrics attached to my music to stay focused. The classical pieces were beautiful, but I was not the best person to appreciate them. My mind kept wondering to what the musicians lives must be like, and the potential dramas that can surround first chair, assistant to first chair etc... I was also horrified/entertained by the French horn players who kept trying to get something out of their horns (my guess is it was partially chewed dinner or a really big spit wad). Next week we are having a movie night. Way more my speed.