Beethoven and The Big Cheese

I made a a couple of mistakes today. First of all, I volunteered to chaperon a field trip. Secondly, I chose to wear new shoes. I realize that this makes the responsibility for the throbbing in my head and the blisters on my feet all mine. I mean the shoes were cute and the symphony was free. What was I supposed to do?

When I heard Lydia's class was traveling to the Schermerhorn Symphony Center in Nashville I was beside myself with excitement. Check it out:


I have been trying to get a free trip to the symphony since they built the new concert hall and this was my ticket inside. I felt that riding on a bus with a bunch of first graders would be small price to pay. I was only in charge of 2 kids after all; my daughter and another equally obedient and pleasant girl. All I had to do was make sure they didn't fly out of the window on the bus or get abducted. I felt ridiculously over-qualified for the task at hand. And did I mention I was getting a free ticket to the symphony?

We had an hour-long ride on the bus so of course they played a movie. I mean, kids can't be expected to ride for AN ENTIRE HOUR without being entertained. All the movie really accomplished, however, was that we had the speakers blaring Charlotte's Web competing with the mom's and teachers conversations and the kids screaming "turn it up!" or "I'm hot" or "how much longer?" or "why aren't we moving?" or "she took my seat!" or "I can't hear the movie! Every one's SCREAMING!". I was in that moment willing to get off the bus on the side of the interstate, walk home in my cute, uncomfortable new shoes and pay whatever anyone wanted to charge me for a symphony ticket. In hindsight, I probably should have gone with this inclination.

Once we arrived, I actually forgot about the bus ride for a moment. The inside of the hall was breathtaking and the music was exceptional. We heard pieces by Brahms, Mozart, Mendelssohn, Beethoven and Copeland. It was fun watching all the kids wave their arms like the conductor and jump out of their seats when the music went from the quiet of a few strings to a sudden pounding by the cellos and tympani. It was also fun to listen to them clap in all the wrong places when they thought the piece was over.

After the concert we all piled back on the bus and it was time for me to pay the real price. You see, all the noise on the bus was just a precursor. We were stopping for lunch. At Chuck E. Cheese. Deliver me.

I won't bore you with the details of all the occurred in that hallowed place. I'm sure you can use your imagination. I will say that it took Lydia approximately 15 minutes to decide on the plastic silver ring and the purple spinning noise maker at the ticket-redemption counter. She was only one of 50 kids in our group. She was also one of the more decisive. Someone needs to witness to the person who invented Chuck E. Cheese because no born-again believer would have ever come up with a place filled with such torture. I am sure of it. I cannot think of one single fruit of the Spirit that this place encourages. Not one.

I am home now and looking forward to putting on my PJ's, feasting on a plate of enchiladas and and spending an hour with "The Office". For such pleasures I have paid a high price.

I don't care what anybody tells you my friends. Nothing in this world is free.