After we started dating, I was continuously looking for cool and romantic dating ideas to impress the redhead. One day, I thought a concert would be a great excursion. At this time, in the early '90s, a number of Tier 1 groups crisscrossed the region, hitting concert venues between Atlanta and Birmingham. These included Charlie Daniels, Marshall Tucker, Hank Junior, and regional stars like Drivin N Cryin.
With this array of available artists, who to choose?
I scored tickets to the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. At first I was pretty jazzed - it was an evening performance of Vivaldi's The Four Seasons, one of my favorite pieces. Soon, though, the doubts started creeping in. Would the redhead be impressed, or would she consider an evening of listening to the Top 40 from the 18th century the ultimate in lameness.
Fortunately, her smile and the way her eyes lit up told me I had nothing to worry about.
We made the evening of the concert into a major date event, with a road trip to the hip, cultural hotbed of Atlanta. For dinner, we dined at the legendary and iconic landmark, The Varsity, for a Michelin-star-worthy repast of burgers and fries. Later, arriving at the venue, ushers escorted us to our seats. Seeing they were just off-center in the orchestra section, I silently thanked the fickle gods of fortune. These were perfect.
For our evening regalia, I was wearing my service dress blues and Andrea was decked out in a low cut, green velvet gown. For the record, "green" is a great color on a redhead. The regular seat holders started to stream in and fill in the surrounding seats. Most were sporting an array of turtlenecks, khakis, and business casual blouses. We drew some curious looks as it became more and more obvious we were overdressed.
The performance was first-rate. Vivaldi's masterpiece is a superlative example of the Baroque, and is easily in my top 3 in the classical genre. Andrea was captivated. She gripped my arm during several moving passages, bringing a smile to my face. As corny as it may be, we were both moved to tears.
That Atlanta evening was a very memorable one, but we'd not attended a performance of that piece since. Then, last month, Andrea got us tickets to a concert by a quartet from the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. The small, intimate ensemble would do their rendition of The Four Seasons on stage while surrounded by a swath of lit candles.
The venue was the auditorium of the Baltimore Museum of Art. Our usher got us to our row, and we were again just off center in the middle of the orchestra section. This evening we now looked like the season ticket holders, me in a button down and slacks and Andrea in a dress. I glanced half expectantly around the auditorium before taking my seat. Noticing the odd symmetry between the two nights, I wanted to see if some kid in a Navy uniform was in the audience.
Thirty years later, as the quartets' instruments' voices melded together and washed over us, we found ourselves once again lost in Vivaldi's genius. This time, we weren't overdressed, and The Varsity wasn't on our pre-show menu. But, Andrea once again gripped my arm, I smiled, and we were both moved to tears.
No comments:
Post a Comment