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Attended a music recital in the wilds of Chicago's western suburbs this weekend. Three of my nephews performed (more on that later). I give you the following highlights:
- It was, for the most part, what you expect to hear at kids' recitals - a few classical pieces, a teeth-grindingly bad rendition of 'Harlem Nocturne' by a kid who barely had the breath to play his sax...that kinda stuff.
- Two kids played original songs. The first was an 11-year-old girl who played guitar and sang earnestly about the guy who BROKE HER HEART!!! Her song ended with the dramatic lyric "I thought we had something special, but I guess you ruined that for both of us!". It was like hearing one of my adolescent diary entries set to music.
- The second original composition was sung by a hip youngster of 13 who musically shared with us that his parents "don't understand my pain" and that he was "full of ang-ah and frustrashhhhun" and by the way, "GOD HELP MEEEEEE!".
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And what did the nephews play, you ask? The eight-year-old played a jazz rendition of "Twinkle Twinkle" and his two older bros. did a duet of Metallica's "Unforgiven." We're a musically well-rounded family, you see.
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Otherwise, the weekend was a mixed bag. My mom continues to morph into some kind of monstrous mother-of-the-bride. I'll spare the details, but I will tell you that I had some not-so-gentle words with her yesterday and I'm hoping that put an end to it. I spent a lot of the weekend looking at her and thinking how frail she looked and how much I love her and how I hope she is around for a long time to come. Then she'd open her mouth about why S. and I are being insensitive to our wedding guests' comfort by not having gifts on every table...and that would change. Dramatically.
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Arrived late last night and was so relieved to see S. that I started crying at the airport. It was the first time I've flown into Austin since I moved here and it absolutely felt like coming home.
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