A plea to my fellow patrons

I've had a great weekend so far-- high on activities and culture, low on errands (if only the errands would run themselves, that would be even better. La Bayadere was excellent, beautiful, interesting to watch-- thank you JD for inviting me. Persepolis was excellent, and a testament of the effectiveness of a powerful story told artfully without expensive, in-your-face graphics. I also enjoyed learning about the history of the National Building Museum organized by the local Smith Club. It's a beautiful building inside and out, and I'll be working within view of it, so news of the tour struck me as a good omen.

You may be thinking, if she's had such a great weekend, what on earth is she going to bi&ch about? I'm getting to that.

Now, there was (vicarious) drama on metro ride to the Kennedy Center last night; there was confrontation, profanity; invocation of the emergency stop button; and relief when no weapons were drawn. I almost prefer that to the metro ride up to the Museum this morning. I was just sitting there reading my book, minding my own business, when a couple with a small child boarded the train and parked their stroller across from where I was sitting (and no, I was not sitting in the handicapped spaces). You'll never guess what happened shortly thereafter: the baby started screaming its little head off. And didn't stop. The parents made perfunctory efforts to comfort it, but didn't try... for example... picking it up. I decided to get off at Archives and walk, even though it was cold and I was not particularly early. It didn't take me that long to walk to the museum, but by the time I had, the horde of Boy Scouts that had congregated outside had started to make its way in, meaning more time in the cold.

By the time I got into the museum, I was a few minutes late, but so was the organizer, who had also gotten trapped behind the Scouts. Shortly thereafter, we embarked on the guided tour, which was interesting. Why some people thought that they would try to enhance the tour by competing with the guide, with jokes or side conversations, or even guesses as to how he would finish his sentence, is beyond me. I'm the first to admit that I talk a lot (actually, my mother is the first to admit it, so perhaps I'm the second), and I like to think that people are interested in what I have to say (and that's one issue over which mom and I part ways). However, I do not extend that mentality to imagine that people are more interested in what I have to say, then, say, the guide of a tour; or the music of a ballet or other performance; or a play, or movie. You get the point. But there are others who don't, because between Argonautica and La Bayadere and whatever films I've seen in the last year, and the museum tour, there have been people in the audience who couldn't keep their mouths shut. Or who couldn't go however many hours without eating and therefore had a food container to rattle... which is annoying, but (only slightly) less annoying than people who have to talk during or narrate a film or play (or ballet). Last night toward the end of the ballet, I overheard a voice say "this is it!" because apparently the person next to him wouldn't have figured that out. A lot of thought goes into these performances; it is unlikely your comment will improve them. You're not that witty, and I'd much rather listen to the music or play or guide. Any discussion of what was seen and heard can wait until after the event. I've said it before on these pages, and I'll say it again: if you can't keep your mouth shut for a few hours, confine yourself to home entertainment. The rest of us will thank you.