Memories of Opera

I'm finishing my spring break week by visiting my mom in Minnesota. My mom is 94 and slowing down. She complains of not feeling well, of stomach problems and losing weight, and most of all, of being tired. Though I've only been here a few hours I can already see the positive change that having company, especially family, visit is doing.

My mother has also told stories about her childhood and her family. She grew up in western Minnesota in a very small town surrounded by farms. A lot happens in small towns, as any number of novels and biographies can testify.

As children, my sister and I loved to hear the story of her white cat with the green eyes. One day when my mother was about 10, the neighborhood children found that I white cat had been killed by a passing car. It was my mother's cat and she was distressed. The kids decided to have a proper funeral, and buried the unfortunate feline with a ceremony and lots of crying, especially from my mother. After the funeral what should stroll around the corner of the house, but a white cat with green eyes. It was my mother's cat. The cat that they had just buried was a white cat with blue eyes belonging to a girl down the street. This started a new cycle of weeping. Maybe this type of thing is where the idea of cats having nine lives comes from?

However, today's story is about opera, not cats. I previously wrote about opera, in particular the opera Carmen, so I think this an appropriate way to bring the month of blogging to a close. After college, which my mother was able to attend because my grandmother was determined that her daughter would get a good education, my mother became a math teacher. She taught in Duluth and Elbow Lake, in the Iron Range. This was not an area known for its culture. But, my mother told me, every year the Metropolitan Opera would go on tour and would present several operas in Minneapolis. She and her best friend would catch a bus from Duluth after school on Friday and take it to Minneapolis, where they would see several operas. They would take the bus back to Duluth on Sunday evening.

The first opera she ever saw was Faust by Gounod. She remembers how Mephistopheles wore a black cape that opened up to a dramatic red lining. After that first opera, she said, she was hooked. She remembers seeing Carmen (my first ever opera), Pagliacci, and Cavallerio Rusticana. As I listened, I thought, how wonderful that the Metropolitan Opera, one of the greatest opera companies in the world, would tour the country every year. They also had a radio broadcast of the Saturday afternoon opera for decades.

Today it's not as difficult to actually travel to New York City. But even you can't go there, the Met now simulcasts some of their operas to movie houses across the country -- not equivalent to getting to see a live production, but a benefit to opera lovers who don't live close to NYC. But there's still magic in the idea of the traveling opera company. And in the thought of my young mother spending hours on a bus in order to have her weekend at the opera in Minneapolis.

Thoughts on Traveling

I'm in O'Hare Airport waiting for my flight to Minnesota to visit my mom. My check-in this morning was remarkably quick and easy -- I checked my suitcase with the skycaps, went through the Pre-check security line without taking off my shoes or taking out my laptop, and here I am waiting at my gate an hour in advance.

Even though this time was easy, I was remembering the "old days," before security measures. The days when your family could walk with you to the gate and wave as the plane took off. No x-rays of your stuff, no metal detectors. You could take liquids onto the plane without incident. You could change your tickets without paying a huge penalty. I usually feel like I'm signing my future away when I buy a plane ticket. You walked to your gate and got on the plane. Sometimes you actually walked out onto the tarmac and climbed stairs onto the plane.

I also remember the first hijacking of a plane and how scary that was, especially when other hijackers jumped on the bandwagon.

My children have never experienced the days before these regulations and precautions. We'll never go back to those days, and really these days are not so bad.

Girl's Trip

Tomorrow I will fly to Minneapolis to visit my mom for a few days. On Friday, my daughter will fly up from Houston to join us. We thought that would be our girls' weekend - mother-daughter-grandma - and that would be great! My daughter hasn't been able to get away to see her grandma in over a year. We planned a quiet trip, visiting with my mom, doing some errands for her, maybe taking her out to eat if she's up to it.

Then we found out yesterday that my niece will also be coming up to Minneapolis from Iowa, so we'll get to visit with her as well! She is starting grad school in the fall at the University of Minnesota, so I imagine her visit has something to do with that. And, oh yeah, her boyfriend lives in the twin cities. It will be fun to see the cousins together - they are only about a year apart in age.

It will also be very good to see how my mom is doing. She is 94 and one her last birthday it was evident that time was catching up to her. She was much more tired by going out to eat and would nod off while the rest of us were chatting. Recently she has begun to complain that she can't keep track of things like taxes, and that she's having more health issues. My brother and I keep reassuring her that she has people to take care of things like taxes and that we are always willing to come up if she needs us. She seems to have bounced back a little since then, so I'm hoping she is comfortable and happy. She is a survivor, but getting to be a tired survivor.

On another note, I'm hoping I can post my last two blog entries for SOL2017. There's no wifi in her assisted living! Hopefully a quick trip to Starbucks will do it.

Poem written while being tailgated

I went shopping at the big mall today, which meant taking the expressway for a few miles. I wrote this poem in my head while driving and then wrote it down in the parking lot.

Tailgater
Hovering so close behind
Swaying from side to side
Like a jackal ready to pounce
Looking for that opening,
Springing into action
Into the small space
Between your fellow travelers.

You will never find
Your heart's desire,
To be leader of the pack
On the open road.

The Real First Day of Spring Break

Today was the real first day of spring break, because it's Monday and I didn't go to school. So what did I do? I'm a morning person, so I got up resolved to catch up on the many household things I had neglected.

First off I did a half hour of yoga. I had worked to make this a daily habit, but I caught three colds in a row and had stopped getting up early to do yoga. It felt really good to begin again, even if I was a bit stiff.

Then after breakfast, I started on my list. Laundry (okay, that's just an every week chore), cleaning, putting things away that had never made their way back to where they belonged, throwing stuff away! Then I went to Target to but many paper products, a new kitchen mop, and sponges. How exciting! I stopped for some bagels on the way home and I stopped at Goodwill to donate several bags and boxes of items we don't need.

After a bagel for lunch and a little more cleaning, off to an overdue doctor's appointment, followed by grocery shopping. Back home, I immediately began making one of our favorite dinner, banh mi.

After cleaning up I thought I'd just sit down and read for a little bit -- oh no! almost 2 hours later I realize that I really must stop and practice my horn before it gets so late that the neighbors will be unhappy. Why do books do that to us?

Disappointing Recital followed by Delicious Tapas

Today my husband and I went to a piano recital in Chicago. We mostly go to the Chicago Symphony concerts, and this year we have begun going to a few operas, and only occasionally do we go to piano recitals. I had wanted to see a particular pianist, Jeremy Denk, who is a MacArthur "Genius" grant winner, but we had a conflict with that date, so we ended up at a different piano recital.

I'm not going to name the pianist we saw today. He has won many competitions and has a busy career. We were both disappointed in his performance. I found myself thinking about all kinds of things other than the music -- the pianist's posture (excellent!), how many people were there, if Robert Schumann had lived today and been able to take Prozac would he have been happier but less productive? This is a bad sign. The performer should draw you into the music, sharing his/her interpretation, making a musical world. My husband, who is a pianist, had more technical complaints, but all leading to the same conclusion -- we were bored.

At intermission he said, "If I were here alone I'd probably leave now." I said, "Well, why not ask me if I want to leave, too?" So we did, but we had only 10 minutes to make it across the Loop to the train station. Our heroic cabbie got us there with ONE MINUTE to spare. We raced up the escalator and ran to our train. My Fitbit shows 28 minutes of exercise from walking to and from the train!

n the train, I mentioned that since I thought we were eating out that we might still have to do that because I didn't have anything to cook for dinner. "We could go for tapas," my husband said. Yes! There's a tapas restaurant across the street from our train station. So we had tapas and even dessert and it was very good!

Just two of the tapas dishes we had!

The Introvert at the Party

Tonight my husband and I went to a party. We knew a few people at the party, but most were new to us. We had a good time -- interesting conversations, good food, interesting things to drink.

As the evening went on, one woman began to dominate the conversation that I was part of. She was very animated and quite funny. But the longer the group sat around the table, the more she talked and the less she listened. She cut into other people's stories with a related anecdote of her own. It got to be both annoying and tiring for me. Why do people do this? Do they just get so wound up that they can't stop and listen to anyone else?

I know I am in introvert and I take responsibility for acting like an introvert in many social situations. So right now I'm trying to figure out how I could better interact in this kind of social gathering. What I did was get up to get something to drink, and then wander into another room and a quieter conversation for awhile. That was a good choice. But I'd also like to be part of a bigger conversation and not feel shut down.

I think I'll visit Quiet, the book about introversion and I'll keep thinking.