The last couple Saturday nights the beautiful Hannah and I leave our element and go downtown all dressed up. We have a nice dinner and watch the Oregon Symphony play. I enjoy the conductor Carlos Kalmar a lot, with his bunny hops and back railing to his podium to keep him from falling off the stage. His joy of the music makes me enjoy his musical conducting. It makes me remember the thousands of hours of practice and concerts I sat on stages, and how much I would like to play for him. But that’s not my life now…
The contrast of showing up to the the-a-tar after spending the afternoon cooking and serving homeless is not lost on me. That is why I say we leave our element. I am much more comfortable around dirty, unshowered, damp, smelly people than I am around uptight, suburban proud, smelly people. This was more than evident this past week when the lady next to us used at least a bottle of some fragrance…if not two, while she used her iPhone to look up faux furs before the concert. Then as the concert started a possibly drunk, overenthusiastic clapper was escorted out as the announcements were made and the concertmaster welcomed.
As this happened I felt out of place, even though I have the threads. I wanted to know if he was supposed to be there and if he was drunk or just didn’t know the rules. As we left it became clearer this wasn’t our element as we noticed a dude in a doorway who puked next to his sleeping bag, and instead of scoffing we both paused to see if he needed attention. This was because we park on the street, instead of in the car park where “my Lexus is significantly less likely to be leaned on by one of those fake homeless kids” as I heard in the bathroom line.
The bathroom line and the symphony as a whole put me in weird place. I enjoy it, but mostly for the entertainment of the conductor. But I wonder if I could have used the money spent on other more life changing things. And if it is worth it.
It will be for a while because I bought the season pass before the beautiful Hannah and I combined finances and she could see how much I spent on her and my desired impressive extravagance. Luckily she knows that isn’t the real me.