We packed a month of fun into Saturday.
We were among the hundreds of people who lined Market Street for the Saint Patrick's Day Parade downtown. I've never been to a parade downtown. Cheesy fun. I realized once again that since my paternal great-grandparents were both supposedly from Ireland that I am just as Irish as Gary (25%). I guess I could get one of those Ancestry tests and find out, but if I'm not Irish royalty I don't particularly care.
We left the parade early to get to the Fox Theater primo parking lot, where we hid under our coats and changed from jeans to pants because I won tickets for the Box Seats, baby. Often have I sat in the front row at a theater and considered the box seats above my head. "They are further away from the stage than my seat, but I know they cost more. What's the draw?"
On the one hand, while the box seats were the farthest I have ever been away from the stage at any venue ..
... they were the closest I've ever been to the second floor lobby. There was a bar, a lounge, a restaurant, and velvet-curtained archways that led into the boxes. There was a waitress who came by and unquestioningly took your order of quesadillas and moscato.
By the way, if you think you've seen Cabaret because you saw the movie, you have not. You've just seen another representation of I Am a Camera. There are huge differences, not the least of which is that the movie ending is a HAPPY JOYOUS ROMP compared to the stage ending. In fact, the stage endings you can find on YouTube of the Cummings version are happier than what we got. The audience gasped and murmured because it creeps up on you. I mean, I'm not looking for a happy ending for a musical about Nazis, but ... but... I can say no more. Ask me in the comments if you want spoilers.
Then, after the Fox, Gary felt he was up for dinner AND a movie, but unfortunately he got his feet tangled in the chair at the restaurant and toppled like a tree, almost taking out all the diners at a nearby table. He's now going to pack his cane for any restaurant visits.
Every Irish person is a king or queen. My mother said you could not throw a stone in Ireland without hitting a king or queen.
Posted by: Hattie | March 23, 2017 at 03:12 PM
Hattie - what I recall of my grandmother is that she was not very queenlike. She did have a job behind a desk, which led me to believe she owned and ran Arrowhead Lodge in Oklahoma. I believe she was the receptionist.
Posted by: theQueen | March 24, 2017 at 07:52 AM