Always Listen to Your Mother, Part 2

So I had the opportunity today to go ALONE to Target. That may not sound very glamorous but when you've been the sole parent of an almost 4 year old for over a week it sounds WONDERFUL. So I got in the car, the one with that doesn't have a CD player, thinking, what am I going to listen to? So I fiddled with the radio to find the Saturday Afternoon Broadcast. I heard the very end of an ensemble, like 1 second, and then... 3 knocks on a door. Then... a doorbell. Even before the doorbell I knew what it was, but the doorbell told me WHERE and WHEN...

Yep. Barbiere from the Lyric. John, Joyce, Nathan. The finale of Act 1 for my drive to Target.

I took my time in the store, and heard the very very end of the opera when I got back in the car. Like, after each person sang his or her little piece, and then the curtain calls.

So I called my mother. The first words out of her mouth: "Did you listen to the Saturday Afternoon Broadcast? Was that not wonderful? What talent! What a fabulous cast! I cried three times. THREE TIMES!" She went on and on about how great it was until I could cut her off to say that yes, I heard it, and Oh, BY THE WAY, MOM, I WAS THERE!! Not at that exact performance, but I saw the same cast a few weeks later. I was like, "Remember when I went to Chicago? That's what I saw! From the 14th row! It's even better live!! That tenor, the Almaviva you heard? He and I are friends... He invited me backstage... I met them all..." and she said, "We have a terrible connection, you're echoing, I can't stay on the phone it's too annoying."

Nice. Maybe she's trying to give me a hint...

What did I say in a previous post?


Always listen to your mother.