This past week my friend G, a cellist, came to visit and offered us free tickets to a benefit concert she was playing in at Carnegie Hall.
Even though this concert supported an initiative to end violence against women, and even though I am a woman and even though I consider myself quite if not very highbrow, I thought, “Man all the songs* are so long and I’d really rather just stay at home on a chilly Monday night.”
But Thom said, “Sure, we’ll go,” because apparently, Thom likes classical music.
What Thom doesn’t like are the long speeches that always take place at these benefit concerts before the music starts.
In this case, three people spoke before the first piece, among them UN deputy secretary-general Jan Elliason, each giving us the facts and figures about violence against women and calling upon the audience to help, very probably underestimating the number of free ticket holders present. Each speech was longer than the last and about halfway through the conductor’s ill-prepared, rambling conclusion, Thom leaned over and whispered, “How long is this? I like women less and less each second this goes on.”
Thom saying things like this ought to make me, a woman, worried, but it doesn’t.
As the orchestra readied itself, a man two rows in front of us had piled a heap of outerwear on the back of the empty seat next to him, inadvertently blocking the view of an elderly woman behind them, her line of sight passing just barely over the top of the seats.
An eagle-eyed yet portly usher, seeing this outrage, intervened, “Sir, you’re going to have to move these coats down. She can’t see.”
Embarrassed, the man quickly took his coats down and turned to give the woman an apologetic smile. She nodded back and gave him a little wave, and Thom leaned towards me, the ire he had toward the speakers gone.
“She’s like a hundred,” Thom said, “She should be able to see.”
- Thom binge-read this week and finished The Dark Forest in record time, which is unfortunate since book 3, Death’s End, doesn’t come out until April 2016. Thom sat around looking despondent. “Betty,” he said, “I need a new book to read.” A few days later, The Great Rebalancing by Michael Pettis arrived via Amazon, but by then he had already started Ready Player One.
- In his quest to update his fall – and now fast-approaching winter – wardrobe, Thom stopped by the incredible sale at Ben Sherman in SoHo (full priced online) and picked up new pants, striped socks and this blue polo.
- As I was writing the above, Thom groaned, “Why are you writing about all the pants I buy? People will start stealing my style.” Then, “Oh my god, are you now incorporating my complaints about the blog into the blog?” I nodded. This, ladies and gentlemen, is called meta-complaining.
- Thom also complains when I wear his clothes.
“You need to stop dressing like a man,” Thom says.
And he hates when I wear his hats.
Other guys, I pointed out, seem to find it adorable when their girlfriends wear their clothes.
“But you’ll stretch them out with your huge head!” Thom said, “It’s like a watermelon!”
- And now, it’s Thursday evening** and Thom, having read this interesting article in the Financial Times in which Spectre, the fictional global criminal syndicate in the Bond series is compared to modern-day VC firms (spoiler alert: they aren’t that different) suggested we watch a Bond film this evening with our dinner, a large pizza from his neighborhood favorite, Merilu Pizza Al Metro.
“Cheese,” said Thom, “I’m trying to be healthy.”
Happy Thursday everyone!
*My cousin, a violinist, told me the correct term was “pieces,” not “songs.”
**I really must get into the habit of posting these earlier, lest they become “Thom’s Thursday Evening Thoughts.”