Holiday concerts and all that jazz

Friday night the twins and I did something really special -- we went to the CU Holiday Festival. This is a big concert involving orchestra, band, and singing groups, always in early December, and always sold out. They've been doing it for 40 years and I've always wanted to go, but somehow never have. Each year since we moved back to Boulder I've asked myself, should we go? And I've answered myself, no, we shouldn't. But this year the twins are playing musical instruments in school (clarinet and trombone). They're a lot more aware of music, and how music is made by different instruments, than they ever were before. And they're 10. Maybe, I thought, just maybe 10 would be old enough.

Of course, I didn't make this decision until all four performances were nearly sold out, but I managed to snag three tickets for Friday night. Rocket Boy agreed to be our chauffeur, and dropped us off on University Avenue, just a short walk from Macky Auditorium, a little after 7 pm. It was frigid, probably in the 20s. The boys were dancing around, full of energy -- too full of energy. I worried.

Our seats were in the second balcony, way way up high, but they were fabulous -- you could see everything. I took just this one picture with my phone. You weren't supposed to take photos after the concert started, but beforehand was OK. The pink and lavender that you can see is not paint, it is light from a projector near us, which Kid A noticed and identified almost immediately. During the show, those pink and purple areas turned different colors, and sometimes pictures or even videos were projected on the side panels.

I sat between the boys, to prevent fights and excessive goofing off. As it was, things got a little tense. At first they were interested, looking for people playing clarinets and trombones. I pointed out the concertmaster and the conductor's entrance. We had brought a small pair of binoculars along to be "opera glasses," and Kid B took control of those and enjoyed looking at the instruments.

But it's a long concert, and they started getting bored, especially Kid A, on my left, especially during slow songs that he didn't recognize. "What song is next?" he'd whisper loudly, but I couldn't read the program because the auditorium was pitch black. "What time is it?" but I couldn't answer that either. "How many songs are left?" "Shhh!" I said. "You shhh," he replied.

I got a break when the orchestra played "Sleigh Ride" and Santa Claus showed up to conduct. I (quietly) pointed out the percussion tricks, like making the sound of horses' hooves, and a whip cracking. "I see it!" Kid A said, too loudly. "It folds up and makes a slap!" "Yes, but shhh," I said. Then we had more slow songs, leading to more inappropriate talking. "Mom, how much is 22 times 8?" I pretended I didn't hear, but did the math in my head. "Mom! How much is 22 times 8?" Oh, for heaven's sake. "A hundred and seventy-six. Now shhh!" (Later he told me he had been counting something he could see in the auditorium that was 22 by 8.)

The last piece was a sing-along, the Hallelujah chorus from Handel's Messiah, which I hadn't sung in years. Kid A put his hands over his ears as I attempted to hit the high notes. I used to be a soprano.

Finally it was over and I called Rocket Boy to come pick us up. As we walked down the hill to Boulder High School, where we had arranged to meet him, Kid B asked if they had been good enough (to earn computer time the next morning). "You were wonderful!" I told him, and I meant it. It was an amazing experience. But I don't think we'll go again for a few more years (like 15 or 20).