High Fidelity

Last week extremely busy, made more so by two day period in which Jackie needs to stay home to take care of her grandmother who--I come to find out--she lives with. What is wrong with your grandmother, ask, regretting question as soon as it is out of mouth. Her Head, Jackie says darkly and see that ought to change topic to weather. Isn't it warm. Own Grandmother running strong. Arrives in New York last Thursday morning (just off the red-eye) full of ideas about what she wants to do. Number one on her list is to see new musical High Fidelity. Ask her if she read review in the Times. Yes, she says, but Ben Brantley doesn't like anything. How can you trust a person like that? She likes Nick Hornby and she doesn't want to go to the kind of musical that the hoi polloi go to. She jabs at the paper at an ad for Chicago--Huey Lewis is not her idea of a good time. Can see her point and agree strongly. Tickets are easily procured but at enormous cost. Grandmother doesn't seem to mind. Need to go to work and ask if she will be fine with Dave--yes, she and Dave have already had an email conversation and they've planned to bake more cookies together. Am unreasonably hurt that not included in this plan. Musical is on Friday night--am able to get out of work early and we spend very tense hour in Century 21, only time when grandmother looked a bit tired and old. This utterly understandable becuase image of self in mirror looks shockingly aged and gray. Get snack before show. Seats small, and am kicked by pointy toe of heeled foot as am trying to arrange coat (Later, discover that feet have been resting on overcoat for all of show. Coat, on further examination, proves to be unimproved by being stepped on and am very angry.) Find mind wandering far afield in first act. At intermission notice strange kiosk selling candy. During second act, attention sharpened--unfortunately not on show but on noise of people eating Twizzler licorice and peanut M & Ms directly behind us. Grow increasingly furious. Write eloquent letter to owners of the theater, to the Times, and to the producers about incongruence and inadvisablity combining of high-priced tickets with Movieplex type snacks. Just as am wrapping up letter--particularly like beginning of last line--It is the height cynicism for you to-- Hear grandmother turn around and say in chilly voice, Please stop eating. What? Woman of couple asks in reply. Grandmother puts her finger to her mouth in the international mime for be quiet. Fuck That, replies the gentleman of the couple and proceedes to rustle his packaging with increased vigor. Stare straight ahead at stage, but can feel heat coming off of grandmother. Activity on stage uninspiring and spend rest of show imagining grandmother a) punching man b) spritzing him with pepper spray c) giving him a brisk talking-to; then, in turn imagine self a) being punched by man b) self Calling Security d) telling the Police that want to Press Charges. None of this comes to pass--instead when we go outside after show grandmother says mildly, People are so rude. Dinner spent dissecting musical. Grandmother notes that Sometimes more fun to see something bad than it is to see somethign good. (on further thought this thesis does not hold up but at dinner we are full of wine and good cheer and any conversation will do.) Saturday spent organizing closets. Grandmother holds up each item of clothing in manner which suggests striped shirt (say) is vector of deadly disease and asks, Have you worn this in the past year? No? Put it in the give-away pile. Jenny hides under the bed during this process. After see grandmother off in car service this morning, am reminded of feeling after Sigrid's visits and recall saying about apple not falling far from tree. At the same time feel sad to see car turn corner at end of block.