For a little girl who thought culture came from the tin-foiled rabbit ears on the big Sylvania TV – after all, Ed Sullivan had ballet dancers as well as Topo Gigio – I somehow acquired fabulous Class.
I’ve now been to the ballet. (It was just like The Ed Sullivan Show, although no one spinned any plates.)
I’ve been to the Opera. Why, I even have opera glasses. And they are really cute.
In college, I not only wrote poetry, I went to poetry readings, and listened attentively while someone else besides myself was self-indulgent. To be fair to poets (because I would like to be one again someday), I went to good poetry readings too; Anne Sexton even.
I went to foreign films. Hint: When they have subtitles, it is always called a film and not a movie. I will confess to a dislike for Bergman, but I love Truffaut.
And classical music. When I’m not listening to James Taylor, or Zumba Cumbia, I tend towards Schubert and Debussy. When I first got married, I played beautiful adagios during Sunday breakfast. Somewhere along the years, though, we abandoned Albinoni for my husband’s favorite Sunday radio program, “The Swap Shop.”
Early in our relationship, I was more persistent in my attempts to add culture to our lives. And since my husband was trying to impress me as much I was trying to impress him, we did classy stuff. We went to museums. He naively accompanied me to the Robert Mapplethorpe exhibit at the Wadsworth Atheneum. I give him loads of credit for self-control. He said, “Very Intriguing” – instead of running screaming from the building.
Two years ago I took him to Boston for the Edward Hopper restrospective. He was very relieved.
I think the peak of my cultural success though, was enticing my husband to come with me to the Met, for “Tosca.” And he liked it. Well, in his own way. His comment: “I’m so glad we went. I won’t do it again, but now I can say I’ve been to the opera.”
So last week it was his turn.
He took me to a cultural event. An event that I didn’t even know still existed.
So I wore my skinny cargos in khaki green, with a powder blue long-sleeved tee – just slightly off the shoulder. With bronze ballet flats. I was adorable, classy, and ready for a thrill.
And I had a swell time!
At the Demolition Derby!