The opening Clarinet glissando in Gershwin’s “Rhapsody In Blue”, I love – as did and does, United Airlines.
And had me guessing if it was possible with a Trumpet, during last night’s performance by the Cary Ballet Company of “Who Cares”. A Google search assures me, a Trumpet is capable of a glissando.
I made this photograph for a lady who styled my late wife’s hair at home, in Cary, North Carolina. She was a Biker.
Some folks think French folks are effete. Trust me on this, Parisians are WAY tougher on motorcycles than recreational Americans.
The expression in the title above was taught to me by a business acquaintance and ex-mechanic from Seattle during dinner at a restaurant in Westlake, Ohio, that started life as a “Speakeasy”, during Prohibition. But that’s not what this is about. It’s about Ballet.
Tonight,this old heart got an adult dose, vitamin fix, watching incredibly accomplished dancers at the Cary Ballet performance at A J Fletcher Opera Theater in Raleigh. My tear ducts are functional and clear.
I told a neighbor today that I’ve still got a broke heart. And then drove my pickup to a county convenience center, to dump an old office desk and chair. And bought beer on the way home. Dinner, soon. And so it goes.
I’ve been entertaining a lady who works as a cashier at a local warehouse club. The difference in our ages, color and gender are disappeared by foolishness!
E-Mail today, advising me on my next Saturday attendance at a performance of the Cary Ballet Company .
I wrote here before about my ticket purchase adventure – about the venue and modern, pop culture. So forewarned, I was thinking about a zombie nation staring at their phones, when every light turns green and there is a lag and explains the measurable rise in traffic accidents.
I get to skip “Will Call”, as I have a venue printed ticket and no phone. Except for the one in my truck’s console, switched off but available to call AAA. Or Duke Energy when power is out. Or Spectrum, when no Internet.
And I’m greatly relieved to be immune from Ticket Fraudsters. Except Ticketmaster, when a $45 ticket is $69 at Checkout with a sales pitch for $7 more dollars to guarantee it’s legit. It would embarrass a carny huckster.
And I wonder why I am required to have an oxymoronically named “SmartPhone”, keep it paid for and charged and kept track of. Why?
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I have zero tolerance for complaints. Hot water, good chow and no illiterate 15 year old around the corner with an AK -47. We all, volunteered. Works fine, fail safe, drains to the bilge and vents overboard. I had it, you got it.
“A Horse walks into a bar and the Bartender says…” – I’ve been using the silliness of really bad groaner jokes to help offset the unrelenting emptiness of loss. It works, too! And this isn’t my photograph, I set up the exposure and handed my backup camera to my client ( thanks, Cheryl).
He was better after I showed him that his left side was best!
Cooking for one is easy, with leftovers. So often, it’s just a warm up.
Long ago, home at 2 or 3 AM, after a part time gig with a client who was willing to pay me for tech stuff nobody else would touch, trying to keep a blown up life together, I’d find a note, about dinner, warm in the oven. And tonight, putting that into the oven to warm, I was back in Paris and her smile.
Today, my eMail had an announcement of a new record. Yes, I’m ancient. La chanson des vieux amants.
Musee Rodin is – wonderful. There is a terra cotta bust on the second floor that had me remembering to breathe. Paris, Ballet and Music – just take me now Great Spirit
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