There is the Old Fart factor. Last night there was a Holiday Concert at a University about 1/4 mile from our home. The conductor is a great friend of ours and it was free. I had forgotten about until an hour before, having settled into my easy chair ready to sample my just arrived box set of the Guarneri Quartet recordings. My wife roused me out of my snug den.
10 minutes later, having put my boots on and three layers of clothing against the Chicago winter, we were fighting for parking space, as this is a very popular event.
Then we find our seats, remove layers, settle in, only to be jostled by late arrivals trying to squeeze the last bit of space in the chapel pew. Our coats in our laps I began to feel overheated after 15 minutes. The row in front had a squalling infant obligato, and the parents apparently never considered walking into the hallway so not to spoil everyone else enjoyment. Did I mention that the newest infant in our family shared his latest respiratory infection with me and I was sucking cough drops and drinking water profusely so as not to cough and hack?
At home I would have been more comfortable, could cough to my respiratory systems content. Yet…there is no way that I would have been able to reproduce the musical content. Our friend the conductor is a great programmer. One piece was a medley of traditional carols but all in minor keys, and it was titled “A Minor Alteration “. The band-an alumni band-was clearly fired up with tons of enthusiasm. OK, they weren’t the Duke Ellington group, but a very good ensemble and with a lot of unique instrumental textures. And being with an appreciative audience-even with Mr. Squaler- was great.
So I was very glad that I went, and no, my expensive stereo would not have duplicated the experience. The older I get, however, the more prodding I need to get off my ass
