Well, I went to the show this evening. I picked up May for dinner, and we sat outside the parking garage waiting for NJ for a half an hour. I had called NJ earlier to remind her, and she wasn't home, so I had assumed she had already left. So when she was a half hour late at the garage, I called again. She answered. Apparently there was a misunderstanding. When I had talked to her last week, I had said that I had invited May to dinner and the show, and I wanted NJ to join us.
What I heard: NJ said that the show was too late for her, but that she'd enjoy dinner. We even discussed when and where to meet. We discussed possible restaurants. I even mentioned other people who might join us. I am 100% certain of that.
What NJ heard: That I wanted dinner alone with May, a treat for her, and since NJ couldn't make the show, she was not invited.
I don't understand. I say that so often I may just have to change the name of this journal to that.
Sigh.
Dinner was very good - from one who rarely notices. I may go back again some time and order the same thing again.
So after dinner, I could take May on home, or I could take her to the show. At dinner, I told her what the show was, and my concerns that it might be crowded and difficult to see. She didn't ask to be taken home. We walked over to the studio, got there 15 minutes before the show was to start, and it wasn't crowded. They had lots of chairs set up. However, most of the seats were roped off - reserved. I didn't know you could reserve. The only phone number I had seen on the flyers was "for more information". Nothing about advance tickets or reservations. Only about "at the door". I didn't know I needed "more information". I could get paranoid about stuff like this.
The back few rows of chairs were the high "bistro" type. We figured we'd have a better chance of seeing from the higher seats in the back than from the few unreserved low chairs just in front of them, so that's where we sat. It was in fact a little better, but not much better. We got to see the dancers from bust level up. They really truly needed a raised stage. Nobody beyond the first three rows saw much more than glimpses of hip work, and you can forget the floor work completely.
The seats were metal, with straps under the seat that hit May right in the tailbone. It was obvious she was uncomfortable. And with little but waving arms to distract her --- well, if I were nice I should have taken her home in the middle of the first half of the show. If I had been there alone, I'd have been standing against the side wall up front, but I knew May couldn't stand that long. (She wasn't very steady walking. I'm a little worried about her.) But I'd about had it with life in general at that point, and so I let her sit there. And I thanked her profusely for doing so when I took her home. I may never get her out again.
On the other hand, she did ask if there were many shows like that. I told her haflas are better. Looser. Bigger rooms. Better view. She didn't say anything after that, but ... maybe....
She did take an interest in some numbers, and oddly enough, with no prior knowledge of what she was seeing, she made exactly the right judgments. The third number, the tribal fusion, was absolutely terrific - it looked like the dancers were actually having fun. Later she was impressed with the soloist in red, and when the dancer in green came out, she whispered "The girl in red was much better."
If "the girl in red" is reading this, I assure you it's the absolute truth, and I second it. It was a wonderful routine, beautifully executed. No bones. The audience agreed. But, if you are reading this, "girl in red", you should smile more. Not necessarily flashes at the audience - maybe just open your mouth a little more, a little looser, secret smiles to yourself, "oh, I'm so wonderful, so happy with myself". But then, maybe too much perfection is courting disaster. Ok, be serious. Perhaps that allows us to focus more on your impossible moves and your graceful arms and hands.
During the intermission, a dancer did a fireball routine right in the middle of Wall Street, the main uptown thoroughfare. Amazing. Stopped traffic. I can't imagine what the people in the stopped cars thought. All these people standing in a circle in the middle of the street, with balls of fire flying everywhere. At the end, as the balls were burning down, her drummer joined her in the dance, flipping in and out of the flying fire. I never tire of watching that. It was pretty cool.
If Piper was there, I didn't see him. Unless the guy who tried to engage me in intense conversation on the sidewalk at the end of intermission was him and I didn’t recognize him. Possible. We know how bad I am at placing faces when seen out of context.
...Nah... Couldn’t be. Could it? Nah. Shoot - I don't know.... Whoever he was, he got blown off.
Sigh.
~~Silk
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