My youngest daughter and I will be taking the rental car and heading off to the dress rehearsal for Don Giovanni (the Mozart Opera) tonight at the Capitol Theater. She is sore from her unexpected collision with the airbag Monday night, but is generally doing quite well.
My youngest is my usual "date" to cultural events - as she seems to have those of my genes that possess an appreciation for all things symphonic and theatrical. (The one exception to this seems to be the coming of the play Wicked, which all of my daughters want to attend and which will probably set me back a fortune just taking them all to dinner and the show in just a few months. Can I afford that and a wedding this summer?)
Of course, part of the fun will be the looks that we always get when people wonder if I am out with my "niece" (wink, wink.) My youngest is gorgeous, bright and very poised. I'm am, of course, aging, paunchy, and what little hair I have is silver. We get a chuckle from the ocassional side-ways glance.
We sure enjoy ourselves, and in the telling afterward, most of our relatives eyes glaze over or they politely put their hands to their mouths to stifle a yawn. Well, here is the deal - we'll critique the Opera (our first) on the ride home in the rented Chevy Aveo and then I'll post our comments tomorrow and you can decide whether to read, yawn, or skip it.
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