the opposite of people

Last night I took J to see a play.  One (of many) wonderful qualities about J is that she likes theatre, and after many years of having no one in my immediate family with whom to attend plays, I once again have a theatre partner.

Shawn and I do not attend theatre together.  We aren't, to be honest, the type of couple that indulges one another's destestable habits, no matter how closely they are held dear.  Shawn, in addition to refusing to attend plays with me, will not eat sushi and will not go to the farmers' market.  It does not matter how I love these things, he will not indulge me.  (By the same token, I felt no hint of guilt when Shawn announced a budding interest in growing a pot plant in our house and I encouraged him to take his half of our amassed fortune and find a new home in which to test his gardening skills.)  This arrangement works, and I rarely catch Shawn dreaming of the life he didn't get to live as a drug baron.  And likewise, I do not resent his aversion to plays.  (And to be fair, I did once trick him - back when he still trusted me - into attending a Brad Fraser play which contained far more male nudity than even I anticipated.  It's like throwing your children into a lake to teach them how to swim.  Ineffective, and scarring.  And you remember those intimate types of abuse so much more vividly.)

But having J to attend plays with me is a nice change, and last night we saw a show in which her former singing teacher was performing.  J's former singing coach is a leathery old jazz singer, and in fact their relationship looks suspiciously like the plot of a Disney movie:  Sweet blue-eyed white girl and world-weary old black man make beautiful music together and forge a friendship that changes them both forever.  Something completely unpalatable like that.  All that keeps it from being nauseating is the fact that it's real, though I do not blame you in the least if you think I've become too lazy to be creative and am stealing plot lines from the Family Channel.  His performance was outstanding, and we spent a little time with him afterward catching up.  At the end of the show there was a raffle draw for a free turkey and J won it.  She wasn't terribly impressed, and neither was I when I got to carry it home on my lap on the train.  Dead carcasses aside, however, it was a very pleasant night.


*