Monday with Symphony

This Tuesday morning, I am time-boxed and started at 6:30. I will skip the usual formulas and boilerplates and cover the essential items on Monday.

Monday is my weekend-like day as everyone is headed back to work and is no longer trying to fit all the good stuff in the two days working people in the USA have off their weekend. I am retired. I set no alarm, rest, and do not hurry on Monday. After rising late, I spent the morning writing the blog. I also made a NYC bagel (finding I have cream cheese) for breakfast with my coffee and liberal coffee.

Aside: I am out of coffee, having used the last bits this Tuesday morning. I ordered more, but I must buy a bag of fair-trade certified coffee (with a few other items) or go without. I went to the Equal Exchange website last night and ordered more and some chocolate bars.

The blog, over 1,600 words, was posted just as it was noon. I had talked to Deborah a few times as she traveled to work. I showered and dressed and soon was ready to start my day. I looked at the Oregon Symphony’s website and purchased a cheap seat, $42, orchestra floor, row  Z. The music was billed as Shostakovich 5: Heroism and Hope. It also had Concerto by Prokofiev with soloist Vadim Gluzman, which, according to the notes in the program, was known for his playing of 19th and 20th-century pieces. The starting piece was a new work, composed in 2020 by Nina Shekhar, Lumina. I bought cheap seats as I am retired, but I managed to buy one between two open seats and suspected that nobody would buy the others. I was right.

I wore a dress shirt with my sweater vest but decided to stick to the Brooks shoes. It was not raining, and Oregon has a come-as-you-are culture. I would not return home and switch to a suit today.

I stopped by PF Chang’s for lunch, having not been there for years. It was already past the lunch hour, and there was only one other customer at the bar. Electra was bartending and recommended a few items from their lunch menu, including a $5 beer. I had broccoli and beef with soup (excellent Hot and Sour with chicken and tofu) over jasmine rice. The broccoli was perfectly steamed, and the stems were removed. The meat was slightly crunchy and hot without the spicy sauce (I had passed on getting some on the side). It was a bit plain but well put together. Electra found my old membership and reactivated it, and now I may get discounts.

From there, Air Volvo took me to Barnes and Noble, where I found a table and mostly surfed the Internet. I started a Christmas Letter and started recalling the year. I was surprised how much emotion surfaced as I wrote about passing a year without Susie and being laid off by Nike in April. I spoke to Deborah on the phone and looked for Christmas presents and board games—my discount here applies to games, too. I left without even buying a cookie, trying to economize for retirement.

Air Volvo delivered me to Beaver Creek MAX station, and I soon scanned with my phone and paid my fare. The trip was uneventful, and I read most of the time. I entered Portland at the Library stop, which can have some street theater and be risky. I walked up the hill and found that the Southpark SeaFood restaurant’s bar would ruin my money-saving attempts. How can I resist Sturgeon Piccata? That and a good glass of red wine (I don’t drink whites with fish, sorry) with bread and butter as a starter (even free) made for a beautiful meal. I ended with coffee; they took the coffee off the bill to welcome me back. I needed the coffee as I did not want the fine food and wine to cause me to nod off in the music.

My seat was good, and soon I was comfortable again. It was a Monday night, and I caught some of the talk from the soloist before taking my assigned seat. As usual, the seats in the Schnitzer Concert Hall are small, and your knees hit the next seat. There are also sudden changes in the floor that can trip you. I managed.

The first piece, Lumina, stared softly and strangely. It would then grow in intensity and become complex. Then, it would slow, become quiet, stop, and start again. I thought of it as a fine wine glass you are afraid to use because it is so thin. You fill it with a heavy red wine. Soon, it is about the wine and not the glass, but then the glass is empty, and again, you are marveling at the glass. I thought of that while listening. Here, to avoid a Google search.

The next piece, Prokofiev’s Concerto No. 2, was less approachable for me. Yes, it was amazing and haunted by the Soviet Union and Prokofiev’s return to Stalin’s oppressive times, and the soloist was spectacular. But I found my mind wandering, but it wandered down dark paths of repression and a lack of justice. It is nothing I would listen to, but it was still an excellent choice and piece.

I have never heard Shostakovich’s Symphony Number 5. I found it less complex and blatantly themed like later works by the composer. Still, it was haunting and created a contrast of a single or small number of voices playing a lament or wonderful song-like melody that is then faced off with terrible bombastic noise. I enjoyed it, but my mind did wander a bit, but not for long. The ending is brutal and famous. The strings play the same note over and over (200+ times), while the brass and percussion produce an almost frightful ending that goes on and on while the strings just hammer away at a single note. It is not lovely or happy but mean and harsh. Perfect music for Stalin. I will have to listen again.

I saw the bust of the previous conductor, Carlos, and I missed him. He retired during the pandemic. Susie and I used to buy him a beer at Southpark after a concert. He was fun and friendly, and his talks before the concert were full of laughter and his love of music. I also missed Jean and Orville, who used to attend the Oregon Symphony on Monday nights. Tonight, I remembered all the fun I had with music and Susie, Jean, Orville, and Carlos.

The trip home from the Schnitzer was mostly uneventful. Some drunk young men were talking too loud on the MAX and had my Situational Awareness looking for exits and options (there were few), but it was nothing. Once off the MAX, I found Air Volvo, where I had left it. The area was fog-filled, and the windshield was misting from the inside. I was driving with my head to the side to see out of the parts of the windshield clear of the condensation. Soon, it was fine again.

A few minutes later, safe at home, I was reading and finishing my murder mystery, but there were more pages than I was ready for. More on that in the next blog. I fell asleep, woke early, and managed to roll over.

Thanks for reading.