Beware The Ides of March ...

I'm a bit ashamed to admit how not in the mood I ended up being for today. 'Cause on paper it looks spectacular. And honestly, it was spectacular. It really was. But sadly, I think I'll end up appreciating more in the rosy glow of memory, which is rather unlike me.

After an abbreviated version of one of our usual sessions, Jason and I went to the Met for the second time this afternoon. This trip was actually planned in conjunction with the last one, which is why they were exactly two weeks apart. This one we've known about for over a month.

We had gotten tickets at the end of January for Charles Lloyd's 75th birthday concert at the Temple of Dendur. Yes, they have concerts at the Temple of Dendur. I've wanted to see one for years, and to have Charles' birthday fall on a Friday, and have this be his only NYC appearance seemed too good for words.

Unfortunately, sometimes scheduling your life that far out can lead to trouble when the day comes and you just want to stay in your room and not deal with Muggles. But they were expensive tickets and Jason was really looking forward to it and I didn't want to regret not going. This is not the same as wanting to go, of course.

We actually got to the Met early, around 4pm, so we could walk through a new exhibit concerning Impressionism and fashion, which in a better mood I would have adored. As it was, a few pieces moved me deeply, but the rest of the time I spent people watching, locking eyes for a few brief moments with women who looked like The Muse.

Acknowledging to myself that I would have to go see the exhibit again before it closes in May, I started steering Jason towards the exit. We were feeling a bit peckish, and wanted to have a snack before getting in the concert line. (The seats were general admission.) We had exquisite cupcakes from the cafeteria bakery, and a lovely chat. Prolly my favorite part of the day.

We underestimated how many people would get in line an hour before showtime, and the standing around was tiresome, but we ended up with some of the best seats in the house, one section back and with a direct view of the stage. When the lights went down, both inside and outside, the Temple space was like something out a dream.

Charles & his pianist came out first, and played a few gorgeous duet pieces, before being joined by the rest of the quartet. The drummer, despite being an ordained Baptist minister, is one of my favorite young players, and the three young guns meeting the old master was a sound like you will rarely hear, in any kind of music.

After the pianist's wife came out to sing a few songs, a legendary Greek singer (Jason's reason for attending) and her accompanist came out for the last hour, which was a mashup of jazz and Greek music that was genuinely new. This section of the show all bled together, ebbing and flowing into a long meditation. It was evocative, mysterious and beautiful.

As you can see, even through my mood, I was and am aware of how special of a show this was. Truly, once in a lifetime. Jason enjoyed both the concert and the exhibit so very much that he called the whole experience "one of the great, great days." This, of course, is why I went. If nothing else, to share something like this with him, with my father in every measurable way, was a gift that transcends the vagaries of my lousy moods.

I got home around 1130. I ate. The vibe here was weird. Now everyone is asleep and I am up here, where I wanted to be in the first place. But now it is dark and I am tired and it's time for bed.