Chutzpah

Why don't I ever know anything is happening until too late?  It is the bane of my existence.  O.K.  One of them.  I just found out that Art Basel is going on right now.  I would have made plans to go, truly.  I forget about it every year and think that it is happening in February for some reason.  Everything happens in February.  Why not this? 

I did remember, though, to go to the Boulevard for the Bach Choir and the Tiffany windows in the park after dinner last night.  I have been so terrible about falling asleep on my couch that I decided it was time for a change.  Thusly, I did a light workout on an exercise course, then came home and cleaned up for dinner.  I decided to go to the sushi place I used to haunt.  Sushi seemed the right thing for my belly, that and a seaweed salad.  And so, sun down. . . I was away.  When I walked in the door, one of the old waitresses was there to greet me. 

"Where you been?" she asked.  The restaurant was pretty empty. 

"Hey.  I'm going to sit outside." 

But when I got to the table, I remembered one of the main reasons I had quit coming.  Pop music blared from the outdoor speaker. 

"You haven't been here for a year.  Why you stop coming?"

I pointed to the speaker.  Apparently she didn't get it.

"You don't like the light?"

"No. . . the music."

"You quit coming because of the music?"

"Yea, I'm not going to pay to here that.  I'm going inside."

I walked up to the sushi bar and the waitress said to the. . . what do you call him. . . the "chef"?

"Do you believe this--he quit coming because of the music."

The fellow said, "Yes, people pay for the environment."

When the food came, I remembered the second reason I quit coming.  When the bill came, I remembered the third. 

Back home as I got out of my car, I heard the music wafting over the air from the park.  It was still early. 

Fortunately for me, my studio is not far from the park for cars were lining the streets.  It was exciting, this going somewhere in the dark other than the grocery store or the gym.  I didn't feel sleepy at all.  I remembered what it was like to get out of the house. 

The park was full of people with blankets and chairs and baskets of food and drink.  They were pretty people, of a kind, if you will.  They were not tired.  They were enjoying themselves, especially the kids who ran around the park like banshees under the watchful eyes of soccer moms and broker dads, everyone conservatively fashionable.  Yes, yes, I remembered this.  Why hadn't I brought a camera?  I took a few pictures with my iPhone.  I listened for a bit, then walked through the streets closed to traffic among the happy people.  These were "festivities" by definition and I was feeling festive. 

An hour later, I fell asleep on the couch.  It has become routine. 

If I had any chutzpah, I'd get in the car and drive to Art Basel.  I'm going to go check now and see if mine has shriveled.