Saturday, March 24, 2007

What's a nice Republican like me doing in a place like this?

Despite my LONG workday, which I won't blog about, other than to say it can be incredibly fun sometimes and give a shoutout to my bees, J all but insisted I accompany him and his folk-music friends to see Christine Lavin last night in some godless church in Garden City.

While the pinko liberal spelt-eating set might see this as the ultimate evening, it was not quite that for me. Months back, we saw Christine perform in another space, and by the end of the evening, I wanted to chew off my own hand and howl. Oh, her Taco Bell Canon is rather adorable. And in a weird way, I admire her comfort with who she is.

But otherwise, God, no. J, on the other hand, loves her. He swore she was off that night, and begged me to try her again. And after a shouting match while I was driving in an ice storm on the LIE and weeping giant crocodile tears at the wheel, I just fell over and sold my soul and made myself go.

Never mind that I was exhausted, antisocial, and brimming with cramps. Never mind that I still had to go home and work after the concert. Or that I was ravenous and fighting off a scratchy throat. Oh, no. There I was in the land of Birkenstocks and hemp. Hell, I even made an effort: I wore my newest tie-dye.

And how did the non-God reward me? By having Christine put on virtually the same inane show she did last year. She even giggled the same way at her own jokes. Hey, I'm all for having fun on the stage. But gosh, it was self-indulgent.

Not that the audience agreed with me. They cheered and clapped and loved her every note. Me? I'm just not that into it. Maybe it was the Card-Carrying BleedingHeart Liberal song that set me over the edge. You think?

The good news is, I made J promise that if I didn't like it, I never have to see her again. And so that's how I dragged myself through the second half...fervently praying that I would live long enough to turn to him and collect on that promise. That, and hoping she'd clunk someone on the head with her batons.

2 comments:

NancyR said...

Hi Pamela,

Ouch!! Sounds you are pretty well-set on the personal torture quota for quite a while! Seriously, it is amazing what us human will do in the name of 'friendship.'

I also wanted to touch base with you that I'd be in NYC on 4/16 with my daughter for Regis & Kelly. We are driving down the day before (we invited her best friend and her mom also) on Sunday and are planning on driving back Monday afternoon.

I just wanted to let you know. My personal email is nancyrcarroll@comcast.net if you want to respond.

Take care, Pamela. Hoping for some positive news on Sahara soon, it's been awhile. Please give my best to Amy if you talk with her. I have made Sahara my inspirational coach for my training for the 90 mile Best Buddies charity cycling event that I am doing in May. It's an organization dedicated to the social and educational/job skills needs of individuals with intellectual disabilities. Somehow, knowing Sahara and all the challenges she has faced is making those really big hills look very manageable. Thanks for helping us come to know Sahara through your blog.

Much Peace, Love, and Laughter (esp. laughter),
Nancy

Birdwoman~of~ALLYcatraz said...

Hey Pamela, I SO love your blogs and learning more about you. I really need to get over here more often.

And I think your title could apply to me in way too many situations of late.

At least you don't have to see this performer again, right? Promises kept and all that jazz. Ha...

Hugs and support,
Ally