Friday, October 25, 2019

C'était charmant

Thursday night I saw Paris! The Show. It shines a spotlight on popular post-war French songs. It was all in French, which I don't speak, so I was unable to follow the story. But I enjoyed it all the same. There were songs I recognized: "What Now, My Love?", "My Way," "I Wish You Love," and, of course, "Can Can" and "La Vie En Rose." The dancing was exceptional.

I really enjoyed the venue, too. The Athenaeum Theater is a big old beauty. Over 100 years old, it was originally part of the neighboring church, St. Alphonsus. Long-ago it was a gym and community center for the neighborhood's German Catholics. Today, it's broken up into four theaters: three that seat less than 90, and a main stage (where we were) for an audience of 1000.

I got the ticket from Joanna. A friend of hers, involved with PR, got a pair of comps and was unable to go. A Francophile who's been to Paris nearly a dozen times, she was seriously into it and her enthusiasm was infectious. During intermission, she told me about spending hours buying a pair of kid gloves from a tiny Parisian boutique ("smaller than my bathroom") on one trip, and returning to the store years later. The owner remembered her -- and the gloves -- and recommended the perfect silk scarf to go with the gloves. It was such a Joanna story! She lives for the aesthetics, things I'm not sure I'd even notice if she didn't point them out.

Before the show, we went to a neighborhood diner. One of those 24/7, breakfast all day places I adore. She told me about her two new beaux -- Sid and "the other guy"* -- that she met through Our Time. What a smitten kitten! It's nice to see her happy.

It was also nice to go to dinner and the theater again. Since my friend Barb moved away/drifted away, I've stopped doing this. I didn't realize how much I missed it until Thursday night.

*She mentioned his name, but Sid is so clearly the favorite that I don't recall it.

1 comment:

  1. What a neat time--I would love that show, it would make me use the French that I'm sure I have buried in my memory somewhere.