Saturday, July 19, 2008
A Symphony in the Park story
Blankets, and at times bodies, were very tightly knit among the crowd. Negotiating one's way through certainly wasn’t easy. I saw a couple of people almost losing balance and many just stop, trying to figure out the best routs, entirely oblivious that there might have been a dozen people behind them.
My story is strictly of my imagination, but involving a real couple who were navigating their way through the various obstacles, about half an hour before the concert began. A well to do Russian couple; he looked like a man who plays golf; a well groomed 60 something, a little extra weight but cares about his appearance and basically in shape; his silver hair, impeccable. From behind or the side, his wife looked to be in her 30’s. She was quite the beauty. Of course, if her hair had ever been allowed to change from the classic Russian Blonde colour, she undoubtedly wouldn’t look quite so young in distant profile. Facially, she was still stunning, but her husband obviously wasn’t a cradle robber.
As he continued making a path for them, unperturbed, she fell further and further behind. She had had enough. It was written all over her face that she found the entire experience utterly distasteful. Young people in shorts at a classical concert? Common people? But classical music is for the cultured! It is for respectable people! Her sneers and look of disdain said all this to me of what she was thinking.
At one point, she stopped, hands on hips in classic ‘I’m not going one step further’ fashion, and called to her husband. I think he was used to her complaints and she was used to him ignoring them. Undoubtedly there would be words when she caught up and more still when they got home. And then they were gone. I knew I would blog her story, or more precisely my version of her story, which I told to the ladies who had missed this amusing interlude. I do love people watching!
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My story is strictly of my imagination, but involving a real couple who were navigating their way through the various obstacles, about half an hour before the concert began. A well to do Russian couple; he looked like a man who plays golf; a well groomed 60 something, a little extra weight but cares about his appearance and basically in shape; his silver hair, impeccable. From behind or the side, his wife looked to be in her 30’s. She was quite the beauty. Of course, if her hair had ever been allowed to change from the classic Russian Blonde colour, she undoubtedly wouldn’t look quite so young in distant profile. Facially, she was still stunning, but her husband obviously wasn’t a cradle robber.
As he continued making a path for them, unperturbed, she fell further and further behind. She had had enough. It was written all over her face that she found the entire experience utterly distasteful. Young people in shorts at a classical concert? Common people? But classical music is for the cultured! It is for respectable people! Her sneers and look of disdain said all this to me of what she was thinking.
At one point, she stopped, hands on hips in classic ‘I’m not going one step further’ fashion, and called to her husband. I think he was used to her complaints and she was used to him ignoring them. Undoubtedly there would be words when she caught up and more still when they got home. And then they were gone. I knew I would blog her story, or more precisely my version of her story, which I told to the ladies who had missed this amusing interlude. I do love people watching!
