I woke up super duper early this morning and took Liam to Powell Symphony Hall where we listened to the SLSO perform “Peter and the Wolf.” Obviously, it was awesome, because this is St. Louis and in St. Louis we know three things resolutely: Beer, sports, and music, in that order.
The worst scenario you can imagine is a herd of minivans driven by befuddled women who aren’t used to leaving their gated subdivisions for adventures in the city. I drive a minivan but I’m more on par with D.C. drivers, meaning I can wedge my minivan in any parallel parking space and dodge through city traffic – even rush-hour traffic on Grand – like a pro. I attribute this to my and Chris’s previous city living and the fact that my mother is the most insane driver on earth.
All I know is that it’s VERY HARD to be a nice, good person when you’re behind a woman in a full-size van who thinks that you need to back up IN TRAFFIC because she is as incapable of reversing and driving her vehicle into a parking space even though there is fifteen feet of space behind her OHMYWORD. Someone needs a driving course more than I do. I had to gnaw on my steering wheel because I could feel something evil gurgling in my throat.
Even Liam was all “Mom. I don’t think that woman should be driving.”
Liam was mesmerized by the opulent setting of the hall. He was confused at first, because where were the guitars? This was a concert, yes? Concerts have guitars and drum kits, not great big kettle drums like the kind they use in Kimmswick to cook apple butter. Where’s the singer? Isn’t there supposed to be a frontman? And the drummer doesn’t look obnoxious at all. Everyone knows that drummers are supposed to be obnoxious.
Because we studied the instrument families and went over several lessons of Symphony 101, he quickly figured out that this was a concert of a different sort. All of our lessons clicked too; he knew each instrument, knew their designation within the story, he knew who the conductor was and his purpose; he even knew proper applause etiquette, as in he didn’t interrupt a movement with a burst of clapping, nor did he hold a lighter in the air and holler “FREEBIRD!”
After the concert, we trekked back to the car. This was one of the rare occasions that Liam and I, just him and me, were out somewhere without Ewan or Chris. He grabbed my hand as we crossed the street and sighed “That was awesome. Thanks for being my date.”
