On Saturday afternoon, Tuba Christmas gave a concert at the Galleria. I attended, because a) I thought that all that shiny brass would make for a good photo-op b) it would me a good opportunity to hear some Christmas music and c) it was free. Tuba Christmas is a non-profit that puts on seasonal concerts around the country. The orchestra for any given concert is gathered together and is mostly composed of local musicians, who meet to perform without rehearsal. In addition to Tuba Christmas, the sponsoring foundation offers other tuba related events. The one that I liked the sound of the best is Octubafest. Oomph!
This would have been all well and good and would have made for a delightful holiday afternoon all by itself, but there was more, way more. Serendipity struck at the mall, not once, but twice. First off, while I was angling for the perfect shot, Lt. Dan spied me in the crowd and I about Gumped. He and his wife were there to see their high school senior daughter perform. Dan and I were both so excited to see each other that we started yammering so loudly that another couple, who wanted to hear the concert asked us to step away, please. We did and continued to get caught-up on each other’s business, including Spacely Sprockets, our families and life. We hadn’t met for six-months, but we both agreed to get together again. A promise that I intend to keep.
Next, I met Ron. One of the original Ons (Ron, Don, John) as Dave dubbed them. Back in the day, when I came home from work and Dave was sitting on the couch playing video games, I would asked him if anyone had called for me. Somewhat distracted by what was occurring on the TV screen, he would answer in the affirmative. When I asked him who, he would answer absent-mindedly, “Oh, one of the Ons.” Ron is a big music fan, so it was no big surprise seeing him at Tuba Christmas. He suggested going for a cup of coffee, which we did, down in the food court. Again, it was another opportunity to catch-up on old times. I hadn’t seen Ron in years. I was on my best behavior and so was Ron, until he congratulated me on the election of my candidate, Trump. His wry smile gave him away though. Back in the Bush years, we would go at it with each other, but I should have known better that a man of Ron’s moral fiber would never support that louse. Anne was surprised later that I even questioned that. Again, we parted with promises to get together again and having just seen A Christmas Carol the night before, I resolutely promised to do so. I have to. I have to get the band back together again, Marquis and the Ons.
There was just one little sour note to the whole afternoon. I lost this year’s Little Drummer Boy challenge. It wasn’t because of the tubas, the mall’s Muzak got me instead. Still, I got further than last year. Well, there is always next year.