Great day on Saturday
May. 13th, 2002 02:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
libertangoIt was a busy, busy day... But in a good way.
I got to have two fairly good meals, schmooze at one venue with alumni of my college, and at another with three LJ'ers I hadn't previously met (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jeliza, rubylou, and seanmcguire -- all of whom were excellent company), see a play, hear a concert, and generally have a swell time.
The day started with a previously arranged package deal. The Puget Sound chapter of the Pomona College alumni were having lunch at Bamboo Garden on Roy, then walking down the street to see Arms and the Man by George Bernard Shaw at the Intiman Theatre.
When I got to the restaurant, I found that the gal who'd arranged the whole thing had done something odd -- She'd combined three groups: Pomona alumni, Harvard alumni, and a group called The Mountaineers. This was fine by me, being mostly a more-the-merrier kind of guy. Especially since the reason I'd booked this thing was to network, given my employment status -- or lack thereof.
The food itself was fairly good. Bamboo Garden specializes in doing veggie versions of all kinds of things -- "chicken", "pork", etc. Even the vegetarians appear to have good things to say about the place. And we certainly got a lot of food for the relatively low fixed price.
Talking with folks, I had an interesting table. A librarian from a private school. A freelance writer. A professor from a community college. But from the nakedly pecuniary point-of-view, the score was the fellow whom, when I told him I'd recently been interviewing with American Express Financial Advisors, pulled out his card... and turned out to be from Salomon Smith Barney. His name was Joe, and we stuck fairly friendily all through this part of the day. He also was new in town, trying to move from San Antonio. And while many Texans can come off with a bit of swagger, Joe is the rara avis who is Texan and courtly.
Fortunately, I didn't appear to be seated near any Harvard types, so I wasn't tempted to tell them my theory-- Well, now that I've been to Sweden , I've learned that "harvard" (but with the little circles over the a's) means "hair care" in Swedish. So my theory is that Harvard's secret name is The Cambridge College of Cosmetology.
Probably all for the best.
The play itself -- Arms and the Man -- was very well done. It seemed a precursor to things like Peter Ustinov's Romanoff and Juliet, or even, somewhat, Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes... but with that Shavian Fabian punch. (Hm. Might be a good name for a drink. "Care for any Shavian Fabian punch, m'dear?")
After the play, the Intiman's Casting Director, Kate Godman, gave a brief talk about what she does. She was very personable, and had a scrubbed British earnestness, but looking at my flyer I do wonder why Bartlett Sher,El Jefe Maximo, er, Artistic Director of the Intiman, didn't do the talk as advertised. Perhaps he's a Yalie.
So. Joe and I said we'd call each other during the week. And I thought about my next step for the day, having no real plans. I went up Aurora, looking for storage places.
Don't ask me what joggled the memory in my brain, but I remembered thatjeliza had a choral concert both the day before (Friday) and that day (Saturday). So I pulled into the Green Lake Starbucks, to use their wireless networking. Turned out I had just enough time to get there for the concert.
Jane sings in the Northwest Chorale. When she's mentioned it in her journal, I've been envious as hell. I was in choirs from 4th grade through to the year after I graduated from Pomona. (I lived close enough to campus to be able to show up for rehearsals, and Pomona's choir welcomes alumni -- or did at the time.)
This concert was Sacred Choruses by Bruckner, Frostiana by Randall Thompson, an intermission, and then the clean-up hitter, Mozart 's Requiem. The first two pieces had the choir singing mostly alone -- there was a narrator for Frostiana, and a piano accompanist. For the Requiem, they brought out an orchestra.
The singing was fairly good. The choir had The Usual Problem -- far more many women than men, and tenors being rare enough to almost be able to be counted on one's fingers. Why more guys don't enjoy singing, I don't know. Among the tenors, I couldn't pick out which one, but one of them didn't get the idea of "blend" terribly well. He wasn't off, mind you. Just distinctly "out front" vocally.
But this is a nitpick of a fine performance. I'm glad to learn, from Jane's journal, that they recorded the concert -- I'd like to hear it.
Jane, as promised, is fairly easy to pick out, being the alto in the back row with the blue hair. :)
When I came up to her, during the intermission, she was talking away with a blonde I didn't recognize, who was knitting. I said something like, "Jane Patterson, I hope?" and she allowed how this was so. "I'm Hal O'Brien, akalibertango..."
At which point, both of them, bless them, lit up beautifully, and I got the unexpected pleasure to learn that the blonde wasrubylou (It wasn't until later that I learned she usually goes by Rachael.) seanmcguire came over, and a small fuss was made that at least someone from LJ showed up after Jane posting the concert in her journal (and in seattle_events, as I recall).
We seemed to have hit it off fairly well. Jane had to go back to sing the Requiem, and Sean, Rachael, and I went and pulled up a pew.{oof} I liked the performance -- as I'd told them, since I didn't join the Chorale because of my uncertain schedule, this was the third or fourth time I hadn't been able to do the Requiem -- and I was pleased by how much of it I remembered. What Rachael thought of this weirdo bobbing, weaving, and sometimes humming bits while sitting next to her, I don't know, but presumably it didn't seem too over the top.
After the concert, Jane showed that she was hungry by almost chomping Rachael's fingertips off, Sean said he wanted the Broadway Grill's fish'n'chips, and I said I thought that was a great idea -- this being 10-ish, and Bamboo Garden was at 12:30 -- and Seattle newbie that I am, I knew where the Broadway Grill is.
Off we trundle, and get a booth at the Grill. Jane wants to drink, so they get her a Ruby Sipper -- which she says was killer, in more ways than one. And we just generally had a blast, yakking away. Bubbling, charming, flirty, conversational give-and-take... Just about ideal. We commiserated about ex-es; I got to tell the story of my recent adventures with Jimmy Joyce and my gullibility (during which Jane needed to be reminded to breathe while laughing); there was a great confusion about when Rachael talked about the "Twin Towers petition", and my buzzy and fallible hearing told my brain, "Twin Towers position" -- whereupon, since Rachael may be slightly taller than my own six feet, I asked if her ex- was tall as well... {cough}.
Part of the fun, being poly, was watching the three of them flirt with each other. They're all three cool people.
As we walked out onto the sidewalk, to say goodnight, Sean took off first with his car, while Rachael was going to drive Jane home. I told Jane how I'd "known" her online for years, since her college homepage called Jeliza's Hyperspielplatz -- which I still love as a multilingual portmanteau -- to which she pulled in her fist, football player style, and went, "Yes!". And how when we'd caromed off each other in places like alt.poly, and I'd e-mailed her, I assumed she'd never written back because she chalked me up as a Horny Net Geek. (which, by the way, despite meeting all three qualifications, I don't quite meet the semantic sum of the parts... {cough} Me and Voltaire, we have more in common than you think. ("Neither Holy, nor Roman, nor...")
It wasn't until we were outside that I noticed the Virgen de Guadeloupe on Rachael's jacket... and she said how she has tons of Guadeloupe stuff, which as soon as she said it I remembered from her journal. We both like Los Lobos, and while I don't think I ever quite got the story, I get the impression she was in LA a while...
...and I find that, like the night itself, I don't really want this entry to end. If you made it this far, give yourself a Stan Lee Marvel No-Prize.
I told them how I was running off at the mouth because I talked to so few people these days. Their faces lit in horror -- mock or not -- and said, "We can fix that!"
I caught the light by running across the street to the garage. They walked down, past Dilettante Chocolates...
And that was that. 'Til next time, I hope.
I got to have two fairly good meals, schmooze at one venue with alumni of my college, and at another with three LJ'ers I hadn't previously met (
jeliza, rubylou, and seanmcguire -- all of whom were excellent company), see a play, hear a concert, and generally have a swell time.The day started with a previously arranged package deal. The Puget Sound chapter of the Pomona College alumni were having lunch at Bamboo Garden on Roy, then walking down the street to see Arms and the Man by George Bernard Shaw at the Intiman Theatre.
When I got to the restaurant, I found that the gal who'd arranged the whole thing had done something odd -- She'd combined three groups: Pomona alumni, Harvard alumni, and a group called The Mountaineers. This was fine by me, being mostly a more-the-merrier kind of guy. Especially since the reason I'd booked this thing was to network, given my employment status -- or lack thereof.
The food itself was fairly good. Bamboo Garden specializes in doing veggie versions of all kinds of things -- "chicken", "pork", etc. Even the vegetarians appear to have good things to say about the place. And we certainly got a lot of food for the relatively low fixed price.
Talking with folks, I had an interesting table. A librarian from a private school. A freelance writer. A professor from a community college. But from the nakedly pecuniary point-of-view, the score was the fellow whom, when I told him I'd recently been interviewing with American Express Financial Advisors, pulled out his card... and turned out to be from Salomon Smith Barney. His name was Joe, and we stuck fairly friendily all through this part of the day. He also was new in town, trying to move from San Antonio. And while many Texans can come off with a bit of swagger, Joe is the rara avis who is Texan and courtly.
Fortunately, I didn't appear to be seated near any Harvard types, so I wasn't tempted to tell them my theory-- Well, now that I've been to Sweden , I've learned that "harvard" (but with the little circles over the a's) means "hair care" in Swedish. So my theory is that Harvard's secret name is The Cambridge College of Cosmetology.
Probably all for the best.
The play itself -- Arms and the Man -- was very well done. It seemed a precursor to things like Peter Ustinov's Romanoff and Juliet, or even, somewhat, Hitchcock's The Lady Vanishes... but with that Shavian Fabian punch. (Hm. Might be a good name for a drink. "Care for any Shavian Fabian punch, m'dear?")
After the play, the Intiman's Casting Director, Kate Godman, gave a brief talk about what she does. She was very personable, and had a scrubbed British earnestness, but looking at my flyer I do wonder why Bartlett Sher,
So. Joe and I said we'd call each other during the week. And I thought about my next step for the day, having no real plans. I went up Aurora, looking for storage places.
Don't ask me what joggled the memory in my brain, but I remembered that
jeliza had a choral concert both the day before (Friday) and that day (Saturday). So I pulled into the Green Lake Starbucks, to use their wireless networking. Turned out I had just enough time to get there for the concert.Jane sings in the Northwest Chorale. When she's mentioned it in her journal, I've been envious as hell. I was in choirs from 4th grade through to the year after I graduated from Pomona. (I lived close enough to campus to be able to show up for rehearsals, and Pomona's choir welcomes alumni -- or did at the time.)
This concert was Sacred Choruses by Bruckner, Frostiana by Randall Thompson, an intermission, and then the clean-up hitter, Mozart 's Requiem. The first two pieces had the choir singing mostly alone -- there was a narrator for Frostiana, and a piano accompanist. For the Requiem, they brought out an orchestra.
The singing was fairly good. The choir had The Usual Problem -- far more many women than men, and tenors being rare enough to almost be able to be counted on one's fingers. Why more guys don't enjoy singing, I don't know. Among the tenors, I couldn't pick out which one, but one of them didn't get the idea of "blend" terribly well. He wasn't off, mind you. Just distinctly "out front" vocally.
But this is a nitpick of a fine performance. I'm glad to learn, from Jane's journal, that they recorded the concert -- I'd like to hear it.
Jane, as promised, is fairly easy to pick out, being the alto in the back row with the blue hair. :)
When I came up to her, during the intermission, she was talking away with a blonde I didn't recognize, who was knitting. I said something like, "Jane Patterson, I hope?" and she allowed how this was so. "I'm Hal O'Brien, aka
libertango..."At which point, both of them, bless them, lit up beautifully, and I got the unexpected pleasure to learn that the blonde was
rubylou (It wasn't until later that I learned she usually goes by Rachael.) seanmcguire came over, and a small fuss was made that at least someone from LJ showed up after Jane posting the concert in her journal (and in seattle_events, as I recall).We seemed to have hit it off fairly well. Jane had to go back to sing the Requiem, and Sean, Rachael, and I went and pulled up a pew.
After the concert, Jane showed that she was hungry by almost chomping Rachael's fingertips off, Sean said he wanted the Broadway Grill's fish'n'chips, and I said I thought that was a great idea -- this being 10-ish, and Bamboo Garden was at 12:30 -- and Seattle newbie that I am, I knew where the Broadway Grill is.
Off we trundle, and get a booth at the Grill. Jane wants to drink, so they get her a Ruby Sipper -- which she says was killer, in more ways than one. And we just generally had a blast, yakking away. Bubbling, charming, flirty, conversational give-and-take... Just about ideal. We commiserated about ex-es; I got to tell the story of my recent adventures with Jimmy Joyce and my gullibility (during which Jane needed to be reminded to breathe while laughing); there was a great confusion about when Rachael talked about the "Twin Towers petition", and my buzzy and fallible hearing told my brain, "Twin Towers position" -- whereupon, since Rachael may be slightly taller than my own six feet, I asked if her ex- was tall as well... {cough}.
Part of the fun, being poly, was watching the three of them flirt with each other. They're all three cool people.
As we walked out onto the sidewalk, to say goodnight, Sean took off first with his car, while Rachael was going to drive Jane home. I told Jane how I'd "known" her online for years, since her college homepage called Jeliza's Hyperspielplatz -- which I still love as a multilingual portmanteau -- to which she pulled in her fist, football player style, and went, "Yes!". And how when we'd caromed off each other in places like alt.poly, and I'd e-mailed her, I assumed she'd never written back because she chalked me up as a Horny Net Geek. (which, by the way, despite meeting all three qualifications, I don't quite meet the semantic sum of the parts... {cough} Me and Voltaire, we have more in common than you think. ("Neither Holy, nor Roman, nor...")
It wasn't until we were outside that I noticed the Virgen de Guadeloupe on Rachael's jacket... and she said how she has tons of Guadeloupe stuff, which as soon as she said it I remembered from her journal. We both like Los Lobos, and while I don't think I ever quite got the story, I get the impression she was in LA a while...
...and I find that, like the night itself, I don't really want this entry to end. If you made it this far, give yourself a Stan Lee Marvel No-Prize.
I told them how I was running off at the mouth because I talked to so few people these days. Their faces lit in horror -- mock or not -- and said, "We can fix that!"
I caught the light by running across the street to the garage. They walked down, past Dilettante Chocolates...
And that was that. 'Til next time, I hope.
