Acculturation

Do you all remember going to the "symphony" as preschoolers? You know, they sandwiched it right between snacktime and going home. As I recall, they herded us into a room (probably a carpeted gym/auditorium type thing), sat us on the floor, and then expected us to enjoy sitting there FOREVER (okay, 45 minutes) silently while some adults played instruments and really seemed to enjoy it. The last one I attended was "Peter and the Wolf", I think. I remember that there was music - some of which was actually exciting for about 2 minutes, the carpet was scratchy, the floor was hard, and my friend was sitting in my personal bubble space. Needless to say, despite the adults' best effort to introduce us to culture at an early age, I was not acculturated.

Until now.

I happen to be dating a rather sophisticated gentleman. He enjoys "the finer things of life" - the symphony, live theatre, black tie restaurants...that sort of thing. And not only does he enjoy them, he fits in too. Pretty crazy. While I too enjoy some of those things, I have to admit - I was slightly dubious about the symphony thing. He expounded on its many charms - all I could think about was Peter and the Wolf lasting much longer than I thought necessary...especially when my tender little tushy grew more and more uncomfortable from sitting on a concrete floor poorly disguised by scratchy carpet. I mean - as an adult, you have to wear nicer clothes to the symphony, right? How would I manage sitting on the floor in a dress? (Okay, so I knew that they wouldn't make you pay for tickets and then not give you seats, but still...)
However, one fine Sunday afternoon, Duncan kidnapped me. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to reintroduce me to live music. (There was a Star Wars expo in town - complete orchestration performed with - bonus! - actually props and costumes on display in the lobby. If that's not culture, I don't know what is.) But, it was not to the Pepsi Center that I was stolen. We drove downtown and before I knew it, we were parked in front of the performing arts complex. It was then I knew. We were going to the symphony.
As an honest confession, I entered the theatre with visions of Peter and the Wolf dancing through my head. I mean, what if I fell asleep in the middle of the performance? What if it seemed to last forever? What if they had scratchy carpet?!? But my fears were all unfounded. We found our seats (very close to the musicians - I mean, close enough to see their expressions. Another benefit of dating a guy that knows the symphony...he knows how to pick the seats), and settled ourselves in. Slowly the musicians arrived on scene and began tuning. I discovered that he had brought me to one of his favorite symphonies - one composed of several pieces by Rachmoninoff. As a bonus, one of the world's best pianists was performing - Ms. Olga Kern. She entered the stage, and the music began.

I was spellbound.

Peter and the Wolf was forgotten. The symphony was no longer equated with hard floors, scratchy carpets, and antsy preschoolers. The music swept over me and I was entranced. It was absolutely beautiful - almost surreal.

I am now a fan of the symphony.

And acculturation.