Mahler 2 in Chicago

My last entry was hard to begin because so many things went so well, and each amazing memory was fighting to be first up on the blog. I'm having the same problem right now, except the memories aren't amazing. They are....I dunno. Just WEIRD.

And speaking of, this post will be weird. You won't hear so much about Mahler, as you will all the things that happened to me in Chicago, and things I did and said. I have ALWAYS maintained that this blog is not meant to be a place of amazing musical sophistication--it is a DIARY, essentially. It just happens to have a classical music lilt to it. So, with that in mind...here's my diary entry, regarding Tuesday, Nov. 25. Be warned---it's going to be VERY long.

I was torn about going to Mahler 2 in Chicago. It was at night, and I have to be up early the next day, I'll be tired, etc etc---these were the reasons flying around in my head as to why I shouldn't go. Not to mention that the Chicago Symphony was unable to get me a comp ticket. (no big deal--please do not think I am complaining, I AM NOT. I realize this happens from time to time, and that's totally fine with me. They were very cool about it, and besides---they hooked me up ROYALLY last year for M6 with what are, in my opinion, the best seats at that hall). So, did I want to shell out $$ for tickets? Did I really want to make the drive? I ended up spending the money (only $34), and I made the drive, although didn't bother to see about construction on the way up, so of course that made getting to Chicago interesting, around the northern part of Indiana. But, got there I did, in plenty of time for a coffee, and the pre-concert talk.

Normally I am the world's biggest fan of pre-concert talks, but this one was....not my cup of tea. A very intelligent prof from the U of Chicago spoke on Mahler and images, and that wasn't what I wanted to hear. I have no idea what I wanted to hear, actually---just nothing about images. I dunno, maybe it's because I don't really think about "images" when I hear Mahler. When I listen to Mahler 2, for instance, I remember the bass line pretty well, and I think of a bass section. I guess that's an image, but it's not an image in the sense of images like the sunrise on a prairie, or the calm after the storm, etc. So, in light of not wanting to hear about images, I did something that I would normally look down upon severely---I texted a bunch of friends, to tell them that I was at the CSO, and they weren't. Awful! Seriously, I mean it--that was rude of me! I am not happy I did it, but the strange and even more awful thing is that while I was doing it, I was conscious of how impolite it was, yet did nothing about it! I should have left the ballroom, but I stayed put. I'm not proud, I assure you.

Then, along comes concert time. My seat was in the gallery, a place so high up that when you look down you get vertigo. I'm sure you could bungee jump off that balcony, if there weren't others below it. I actually didn't care about how high up I was. I was very happy to be at Symphony Hall, listening to one of my favorite american orchestras play music by my favorite composer. I would have been happy standing in the lobby, looking through the crack of the door for a glimpse of the orchestra.

The place was PACKED. I did not see one single empty seat at all, which was marvelous. (I am jealous of Chicago because of this. What I would give to have the Hilbert Circle Theater filled like that!) In front of me came four youngsters--2 of them not looking over 15 years old, and the other two, a couple, looked no older that 19. I am always happy to see youngun's at the orchestra. I say that as if I'm old or something, although I'm only 29. I think you get what I mean though, right?

These young whippersnappers didn't come for Mahler though. Maybe the younger two did, who knows. But the other two, the older ones, came because I think they thought Symphony Hall would be an exciting place to make out in. I'm not joking.

The seats in this hall are unbelievably close to each other, whether it's regarding the person sitting next to you, behind, or in front of you. My toes touched the seat in front of me, simply while I was sitting normally, and I'm sure if I leaned my head back a lot, I could have touched the dude's knee that was behind me. So, I was very close to this making-out-at-the-symphony couple.

I didn't mind the first kiss or so. They seemed innocent little pecks on the cheek or even lips, and having their arms around each other was sorta cute for a moment or two. The thing is though, that they didn't stop, at all. It was literally non-stop smooching. A kiss on the cheek here, and there, and then their cheeks seemed glued together for a bit, while they each stroked each others' faces. Then that would change quickly, and there'd be a flurry of smooches, and they were LOUD. Normally if someone at a concert is doing something that is visually annoying (like seeing people making out) I can simply close my eyes, and just listen, and all is well. However, I could not do that tonight. I would close my eyes, hear Mahler, and hear smooching and giggling and whispering. The thing is, they KNEW they were being annoying and loud, because their friends told them to be quiet, because a gentleman behind them told THEM to be quiet. They kept on, however. Plus, they made noise getting Milk Duds out of the box, and drinking water out of the bottle, and it wasn't a big deal to them. I kept hoping (all throughout a Mahler symphony!) that they'd be quiet soon. I kept giving them the benefit of the doubt, thinking every so often, "Surely they are done smooching by now!" I never said anything to them at all. During the last movement however, I felt this amazingly strong urge to do something rather odd, and I literally felt like I could not escape from doing it; the urge was that strong. I got out some paper and a pen (very quietly, I might add), and started to write the happy couple a note.

I started by saying something like "Hello happy couple!" because I didn't want them to think I begrudged their relationship at all. I certainly didn't; it was their noise I couldn't stand. I went on to write that while it's nice that they enjoy being affectionate, the symphony is not the most appropriate place to do such a thing. I mentioned that it was distracting to people (meaning me, who drove 3 hours to see the concert). But then I felt compelled to talk about LOVE, and what it really is. (like I know or something) I wasn't intending to lecture at all, but all throughout their making out, I wondered if this is what they do all the time. Were they just really horny this evening or something, or is this their idea of a relationship? Before the concert, when they were speaking, I noticed they had all misty eyes for each other, and everything was sappy and nasty and gross and very superficial sounding. They also were very very young, so I figured this was just good ol young people love. I could have been wrong, I know. However, I plowed ahead with my note writing, just like I plowed forward with my texting earlier.

I said I did not doubt that they liked each other, and would most likely say they loved each other. I think I said something about how they might know all about what I was going to write about, which was what REAL love is. I can't remember exactly how I worded that, but I did try to show that I was giving them the benefit of the doubt, since I was being so audacious in writing them this note. (I do not regret writing this note, however I am fully aware of how many people would object to me doing such a thing, and I can certainly understand why, and maybe even agree.) I basically said that the warm fuzzies are great, and little pecks on the cheeks are sweet and wonderful, but are these the things that keep people married for 50 years? No. Then I spoke briefly about love being an action, not a feeling, and that love is best shown when you are doing good to your partner when they least deserve it, and you least want to do good to them. I said that I wished the best for them in their love, told them good luck, and again, to not make out during the symphony. So, it wasn't anything dead serious, or written with any hatred. I gave it to the guy after the concert was done, by saying "This is for you!" and handing him the note when he turned to walk up the stairs. I saw his girlfriend look curiously over at it, but I didn't hang around. I was to meet my sister at a restaurant, and wanted to get to that pronto.

I met my sister and her dear friend, and I also met, for the first time, my sister's boyfriend. I am terribly protective of my sister, I should say. I have told her that if this dude isn't good to her, that I'd slash his tires, glue his fingers together, etc etc. All in good fun, all in good fun....I'm just very fond of my sister, and think the world of her, and I don't want any dudes treating her badly. Naturally, I would be slightly skeptical of any guy she is dating. Well, when she introduced me to him (which I was not expecting at all--I had no idea we'd be at the restaurant he was at) I guess I gave him a really bad look that said something akin to "Your head will roll tonight". He shook my hand, and then promptly left (he was working, I should add). Long story short, my sister gets mad at me, I get annoyed with her and apologize, later on we fight/talk outside the restaurant, then go back in (after I said I was heading home), and I then take she and her friend back to her apartment. I left Chicago pretty late, and was on the road around 1am or so.

Now, I'm not sure if you know this or not, but I have a day job. I start work around 8:30 in the morning, so going to Chicago the night before I have to be in at work at my usual early hour isn't the smartest thing. I however, am always up for stuff like this. For me, life cannot be interrupted by anything---not a test, not an early doctor's appointment, not work, not catching a flight early, NOTHING. I insist on "living life", which seems to involve going to concerts far away on nights where I have to work early the next morning. Also, another thing you might not know about me is that I am narcoleptic. I took a fun night and day sleep study a few months ago, and the disorder was so apparent in me that the nurse even told me I had narcolepsy before I left. No joke. So, suffice to say, having a day at work and then driving to Chicago and driving home really late and having to go to work really early isn't smart. So, I pop an extra pill I take to keep me awake, and I drink a few coffees. For a while, I wonder when they will kick in. I get a little bit north of Lafayette and my contacts begin yelling at me, to remove them from my eyes, and I do so, and put on my glasses. That woke me up quite a bit, as did the cold when I got out to fill my car up. Thus, a second wind, only an hour from home or so.

It's now, as I write this, 7:15am. I've been home for roughly two hours. I have not slept. I got up Tuesday morning at 8:30. In one hour and 15 minutes, I will have been awake for 24 hours. (doesn't that mean I'm legally insane or something now???)

A night of Mahler that I never really heard (I don't remember much at all of the concert). A night where I had the audacity, and most likely arrogance, to write a letter to two people I'd never met. A visit with my sister, who I hadn't seen in months, and then proceeded to scare off her dude which was followed by arguing with sister, which was anything but enjoyable. Then, me, the narcoleptic driving home at way too late an hour, with lots of caffeine bouncing around my belly.

How awful (or funny?) is it that the above paragraph was my visit to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra to hear Mahler? There's no story of tears forming, or how moved I was by this or that movement, or how amazing the horns are. Nope. None of that. Just a bunch of weird stuff.

This Mahler trip will certainly never be forgotten, but not exactly for the right reasons....