Last night we saw “High Fidelity,” the
musical, with Kim and Jesse. We went out just the four of us. At first Jesse didn’t want to go and that
made me not want to go, because the whole night was supposed to be my (belated)
birthday present, and it made me feel horrible that he was trying to get out of
it.
But then Dan forced Jesse to go, which
lifted my spirits immensely, and the next thing I knew, we were eating pizza at
Cassie’s, laughing hysterically at Jesse’s incredible observations about
everyone and everything around us. He’s
got one of those minds that replays everything that’s happening, in the
completely inappropriate cartoon version. If I didn’t know better, I would
swear he was the originator of South Park.
And Kim, a huge musical fan, (despite the
myriad of implications, including the possibility that she’s a gay male), was
beside herself as soon as we hit the theater district. She takes on a completely different persona
as soon as she sees a marquee. Almost
as though she’s having a religious experience of some sort. How could we
possibly understand her world? All we
do is make fun of it, and she just smiles right through the verbal assaults, as
though she knows she’s the only one going to heaven.
“People are waiting in line to see Tarzan?”
Jesse asked, “Oh my God. And they’re old people. What the hell is going on here?”
“People of all ages go to musicals,” Sister
Kim explained, eyes glazed over.
I was sitting back, enjoying myself, still
anxious to see how Jesse, held captive in the car, was going to escape before
he had to sit through two hours of not funny musical entertainment.
“Can I bring my laptop?” he asked Dan.
“Are you kidding?” Dan replied.
“How about my phone?”
Once seated, the Lessings were all smirking to themselves, looking
straight ahead, as one by one, we each got wind of the group of ladies sitting
directly behind us. There were probably
four or five them, traveling alone, early sixties, hairspray, whooping it up.
They’d already been to Carmines and eaten at Sardis. They’d already admitted
they were from Ohio.
“The meat packing district,” as they call
it, “is actually the meat. . .packing. . . district, where they pack the
meat. That’s why they call it
that. I think it starts at about
fourteenth street, if I’m not mistaken and goes all the way to —- oh excuse
me, Miss,” she was calling over the usher. “Can you recommend a place where we
ladies can get a martini after the show?”
“Oh, I’m not sure, but maybe if you look in
your Playbill.”
”OH! That’s a very good idea! They list restaurants in here. How could I forget
that? How many shows have we been to? Now as I was saying, we should wear
comfortable shoes when we head over that way. The streets are paved with cobblestones.”
“Is she reading this or something?” Jesse
whispered to Dan.
”Never mind that,” Dan said. “Just listen to how much fun they’re having.
That’s how much fun we should be having, every day of our lives.”
“Dad, those women are insane.”
“No, they’re not,” Dan explained. “They’re from the mid-west.”
I watched Jesse process
that little tidbit of information, wondering what he would make of it.
“So does that mean you’d
like to have a drink with them at Sardis after the show?”
“Maybe,” Dan said.
And then the lights went
down, and Kim squeezed my hand, and the next thing I knew, both of my kids were
young and innocent again. Jesse was
actually laughing at one point, and Kim had that look. The look she always gets at any “show.”
Mommy.”
going out for dessert after the show. Jesse was telling us how much funnier the
show would have been had they made a few minor changes, all of which he
explained to us in great detail, using his fork and napkin as props, while Kim
tried to convince him to, “Write this stuff down somewhere.”
Right before bed, Dan
looked at me and said, “Do you think we could get them to do this again?”
I didn’t want to tell him how sorry I felt for him for thinking what I was
thinking, so I said, “Maybe we can do the same thing for your birthday.’
We’ve been married for a
long time. We were cool once. And now we’re not. For us, being with Kim and Jesse alone, for the entire night, was
like getting a back stage pass to a concert and having the band actually pay attention to us.
Back stage passes are usually a once in a lifetime thing.