So, the spozo maravilloso has discovered the blog. And commented that I haven't done anything in awhile. Hohum. He actually discovered it a long time ago, and decided to tell me in the dark of night so I wouldn't be able to see his smug smile even though I could still feel it smugging up the air.
Last night the SM gave me leave to go to a concert with a friend. Several other friends are in said concert, so I felt it expedient that I attend. It was a free concert. And I don't want to hurt my (very musically talented) friends' feelings, but you know the saying "you get what you paid for"? Well, I recieved payment in full. Blame it on the brass section. Pretty much everyone else did "good," but the brass just sounded sour and paltry. Having a world-class violinist as your soloist makes the contrast even starker.
The one piece of the evening that I had been particularly looking forward to was Ravel's Bolero. Now, I don't know how anyone can listen to this and not feel the eroticism throbbing away, but one of said very musically talented friends expressed surprise when I pointed this out. Now she is fully converted to the idea. Unfortunately, last night's performance was devoid of the passion I expect the Bolero to be played with. Upon recalling that this was a church-organized symphony, I realize that eroticism is probably not what they were aiming for.
If you haven't listened to Bolero and have no idea what I'm talking about, then go get a copy. ....And listen to it with someone you wouldn't mind snogging with.
A note on snogging: If you don't know what this is, I pity you.
