Hey! Droopy ass! Cheer up!

I’ve been feeling [with apologies to Anthony Burgess] all boo-hoo-hooey recently because I came razor-thin close, but didn’t get, a pretty good position in a big, fat, successful investment bank. I even took it out on the poor, old, feeble Pope in my last post.

I’m about to leave for The Great Buckeye State for the long Thanksgiving holiday and I didn’t want to drag everybody down into my swamp so I took drastic evasive measures to improve my mood. [Note to overseas readers: Thanksgiving = the worst thing that ever happened to Native Americans.]

I like to visit Carnegie Hall two or three times a year. That place is one of the reasons to tolerate the filth, crowds and other sundry horrors that are inherent in New York City living. I sought healing at a piano recital. Evenings like that are a real joy to me in small doses. I always go alone because I don’t know anybody who would tolerate that crap, but I don’t mind one bit. It’s actually cathartic to sit in that cathedral by myself.


I’ll tell you one thing; the audiences at Carnegie Hall sure know how to behave themselves. You don’t hear a chair squeak, a candy wrapper crinkle or, best of all, a cell phone chime during the entire performance. Not like those pigs on Broadway.

A really odd thing happened. The lights dimmed, someone walked out onto stage and announced, “There is a change in the program. The [mumble-mumble] by Bach will not be performed. Instead, the [mumble-mumble] by Handel will be performed. What do you suppose that was all about? He wasn’t channeling Bach that night? I would have liked to hear the conversation in the dressing room. (Head in hands) “I simply kahnt perform that piece tonight.” Artists are so temperamental. The Bach piece is what drew me to the evening in the first place but I, uncharacteristically, got over it right away.

If you close your eyes, and if you can fight off to powerful urge to fall asleep, the music really can transport you somewhere else. Somewhere not inside my head, which is just where I wanted to be. At the end of what was a really moving evening, I stood to leave. The elderly woman sitting next to me was starring off into the air. She suddenly snapped to and said, “Oh! Please forgive me! I was lost in the ecstasy!” They really do talk like that out here, folks.

The Rose Museum is a small room inside Carnegie Hall that contains memorabilia relating to the Hall’s history. There are lots of programs and tickets and news clippings. There’s the golden trowel that Andrew Carnegie used to lay the ceremonial cornerstone in 1890. Did you know that they almost demolished Carnegie Hall in 1962 to make room for a hideous red skyscraper? Probably the same jack-offs who tore down the original Penn Station to build Madison Square Garden

Here’s a program signed by The Beatles on February 12, 1964, just three days after their historic appearance on the Ed Sullivan show. They played two :30 minute concerts that night. Don’t strain yourself, boys.


Take a look at what they did to poor Paul McCartney’s name! Ha!


16 thoughts on “Hey! Droopy ass! Cheer up!

  1. being able to cheer yourself up is an important skill. so much better than my approach – getting drunk and picking up longshoremen in bars eventually catches up with you!

  2. Cat: I can assure you that getting over things quickly is a new sensation and a trait that still needs lots and lots of work.kykn: I leave the stupid punning up to the commentators.MIT: I didn’t think about it but you’re right. At least they swapped it out for something fairly listenable. But he’s no Bach. Tut.

  3. That is friggin’ hysterical!And what a shame about Penn Station. You know, I never knew of the demolition of the great original until I started watching Mad Men.Shameful.

  4. I brought Mrs. Map with me to our very first concert by a full orchestra. Front row seats, Could have touched the Maestro while sitting! (I didn’t!) Mrs. map did not enjoy, I was transported to a heavenly place. I go alone now, or with The Eldest if she’s free.Sorry you were so close to getting that job, I know what it’s like. I was close to winning the lottery last week, but they gave it to some other bastard. :¬) Whay are we all so down at the moment? I think it must be the time of the year. And I can’t get into my attic it’s so full of junk! Have a wonderful thanksgiving. :¬)

  5. Maybe he just lost the sheet music.Joke to cheer you up – or not;Tourist ‘How do I get to Carnegie Hall?’New Yorker ‘Ya just gotta practice.’Boom boom!

  6. Well now don’t you worry…..you will be home today. We will start with your high school fav. pizza at the local restaurant that you went to when you were in High School. We will fill you with Turkey, Pasta and good family conversation. Your evening will end with the Jets game and Christmas Ale (which has been ordered). We will pick our names for Christmas-no cheating! Rib dinner on Saturday….apparently this is all about the food. Just filling mom’s shoes. It is here where your will have a brief but fun vacation from the everyday monotonies of life.MT

  7. Ellie: They add insult to injury by hanging huge, beautiful black and white photos of the old Penn Station in the new, ugly Penn Station.Map: Thanks, pal. Classical music isn’t for everyone. Sadly, I think it’s dying out. There are fewer and fewer radio stations that play it.Pat: That’s an old Vaudeville routine! The only way I’ll ever get to Carnegie Hall is the R train to 57th St.Sid: I know! John McCartney! That’s a classic proofreading fail.MT: What do you mean no cheating when picking names? Why should this year be any different?

  8. The program signed by the Beatles is even more of a gem for showing the error in a name. Amazing. Hubby and I watched a great movie the other evening about the making of pianos and Carnegie Hall was mentioned a few times in the movie. I hope you are able to relax and enjoy your Thanksgiving holiday with your family.

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