As a woman of a certain age, nature woke me up about 2:00 a.m. Tuesday and threatened to keep my eyes open, but I fought back---until 5:30. I had a great breakfast visit with my youngest son, and then a long, catch-up lunch with a dear friend, so it was a full day. Tuesday night, we went out for sushi and beer and I managed to stay up a bit longer. The morning wake-up came at 1:00 this time, but I managed to keep the light off until 5:30 when I gave in and started reading my mystery (it's really good, btw--Henning Mankell's The Troubled Man, a Kurt Wallender mystery).
My daughter had asked me to meet her for lunch at her office. Having never visited, I was excited to bus it in to St. Paul and explore the offices of the SPCO in the Hamm Building. (As I shared with my daughter, I actually knew a member of the Hamm family growing up in Arizona AND I can sing the 1960s jingle for "Hamm's the beer refreshing".)
Once I passed in to cubicle land at my daughter's workplace, she observed that I looked rather miserable--and that after I'd spent so much time on my hair and makeup! It was then I knew that JET LAG had sunk in her claws. I was feeling wayyyyyyyy tired. I managed to shake it off and we headed off to our lunch site, stopping along the way to change my British pounds and Euros at the local Wells Fargo.
We had a lovely lunch at a French Panini place in the Skyway and then it was time for me to bus it back to my daughter and son-in-law's abode. My daughter commanded me to start blogging in the afternoon, so I set up a few movies on Netflix and got to work. By the time my son-in-law returned to the apartment I could feel that heaviness that comes from fatigue descending. There was no time to indulge that feeling as my daughter had very generously arranged Guthrie tickets to see "As You Like It." This was my first time at the new Guthrie, so I was really looking forward to it.
We hadn't had time for dinner, so we went to one of the bar/lounges on an upper level and ordered drinks and a snack. Stupidly, I ordered a Blue Moon beer--not the wisest move in my state.
The play was in the Dowling studio on the 9th level. We took our seats and then the lights dimmed. Rutroh, I thought, I'm about to assume..."The Guthrie Position."
When my mother-in-law was alive (may her memory be for a blessing), one of her great pleasures was to go to the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis (the old Guthrie, that is) to see plays throughout the season. She usually alternated her theater buddy between my two sisters-in-law. She was always very enthused about whatever play was on for the day, and she always made a day of it. They would go to the cafe and have a light lunch and then go in to the theater for the performance. She'd be quite chatty and excited, and then the lights would dim. It was almost automatic. No sooner had the lights gone down, then so would her chin. Head bowed, she'd doze for the entire act, only to be roused by applause at intermission. She'd look up and turn to her companion and say..."Wasn't that just wonderful?!!!"
Thus, the Guthrie Position became an inside family joke. We'd all laugh, remarking that she'd paid so much for the tickets and rarely made it through more than a scene or two. Well, Gracie...you get the last laugh.
I was completely gone more than once. I'd perk up for the music and catch snippets here and there. My daughter elbowed me a number of times, and I'd smile and nod, but then my leaden eyelids would snap shut.
And that was a real shame. It was a good performance. The actors did a terrific job, and the scenery and costumes were fun. The music was lovely, and the company was great.
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