What’s the when where by who’s why, how?

Last Splatterday was our one-year anniversary. To commemorate the occasion, I commissioned a full-size, cast-iron replica of the Liberty Bell (complete with crack) with E Duo Unum emblazoned upon it. The damned thing got lost in the mail so instead we went to the Lyric Opera to see their production of The Merry Widow. I don’t know much about opera but what we saw seemed fit more for dinner theater than the opera house. Perhaps this feeling was due to the opera being presented in English (I think we read in the program it’s originally Austrian). My mentioning this isn’t really to denigrate the work done – I thought everything looked and sounded great (aside from some serious mic echo during the dialogues). The truth of the matter is that the thing wasn’t too terribly interesting or entertaining. So we left after the first act (of three – making the run-time almost 3 hours!). [Side note: Sarah overhead some opera aficionado speaking on the musical theater similarities as though it were a characteristic for which one should be thankful. Told you I didn’t know much about opera.]

We walked out into the rain-soaked and fluorescent-lit mist of beautiful downtown Kansas City. The Commerce Bank sign hung like a fuzzy beacon to wayward capitalists, calling them home from across the river. Sarah and I walked over to the Downtown Marriott, grabbed a beer for myself and a cola for the missus, and wondered about the folks spending their Splatterday night in a hotel in downtown KC. Folks like ourselves, sure, but also folks dressed like showgirls or travelers having a couple or four shots before their 11 PM flight to Dallas or the pre-teens playing cards in the skywalk, chatting on their cell-phones to who-knows-where boyfriends or the dapper gent in a crushed velvet suit, relaxing in the lobby, biding his time, waiting? hoping? simply relaxing in between more pressing matters? We wandered until Sarah’s feet grew tired from the new heels she had on, then we headed back into that night ripe for noir, back to the Toyota and back to KCK. Sarah crawled into bed and passed out. I spent a good hour on-line looking up artists from the early 90’s: Tara Kemp, Cathy Denis, High Five, After 7 and London Beat. Then I listened to Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince’s ‘Summertime’, just for old times’ sake, and thought about how swell the past year’s been to us.
 

 

What’s the when where by who’s why, how?