The Good Old Days

Hello World,     Happy Spring! You'd never know by the temperature around here, but Tuesday was actually the first day of Spring, and the way things have been going lately, it could not be more welcome, believe me. Back when it was warm in February, we couldn't help but notice whole bunches of jolly snowdrops popping up in our neighbor's yard, followed by a veritable explosion of crocus, in splashes of bright gold and deep purple. Our purple crocus are also putting on a show in the front yard, in spite of Old Man Winter's icy grip on the thermometer. Bill even saw a robin in the backyard last week, and as a harbinger of Spring, that would be hard to beat. Of course, another harbinger of Spring used to be the annual donnybrook known as the St. Patrick's Day Parade, but nowadays, those festivities can range anywhere from the beginning of February to the end of April in the local communities, so that doesn't narrow it down as much as previously. Not to mention, like Waitangi Day, a lot of the controversy has been eliminated from the venerable parade (which is probably a good thing, and an improvement that I dare say would be much appreciated by the saintly personage supposedly being honored by the celebration) so you can't hardly even tell when the parade has come and gone anymore. They're obviously going to have to find a new way to get attention, because the green beer and bagpipes aren't doing it for them at this point, begorrah.     Speaking of flowers, now here's something that you wouldn't expect to be coming at you from the opposite side of the generational divide, but there you have it. Our friends at The Hallmark Channel were recently running a special program to promote their springtime romance movies, featuring some of the stars of these movies, plus assorted clips, behind-the-scenes snippets, and other related content. Part of it included little spring-themed pop quizzes between the performers, such as "list 3 flowers that are also names" (for instance, Rose, Ivy, and Dahlia) or "what is the most popular month for weddings?" (June) The one that pulled me up short, though, was a "fill in the blank" question where they needed to complete a phrase like "busy as a [ blank ]" or "in the merry, merry month of [ blank ]" and along those lines. To their credit, they pretty much all did a fine job with the busy bees and merry month of May, and which at the time, I admit I would have taken it for granted. On the other hand, it was astounding to me that among the more mature talent, in the query of "fresh as a [ blank ]" the word "daisy" sprang immediately to their lips, but when it came to the younger actors, they had literally nothing to suggest, and in fact, a look of pure and genuine bewilderment spilled over their faces like no amount of acting could ever accomplish. Apparently the "fresh as a daisy" idiom has not stood the test of time, and not come tripping down through the ages like many other well-known phrases, so that young people nowadays simply have no familiarity with it at all. I would not have believed that was true, if I hadn't seen it happen over and over again on this show, where people of all ages came up with the right answers on many different questions, but none of the youngsters could pull a daisy out of a hat, no matter what. Younger than springtime, indeed.     Also on the topic of the generational divide, we had our own experience with that when we had occasion to revisit those halcyon days of Motown a couple of weeks ago, as we took in a concert by the irrepressible Temptations and the Four Tops at the old Westbury Music Fair, now the NYCB Theater at Westbury. Of course, many of us "of a certain age" remember them fondly from our youth, and now might be justly concerned that these renowned singers and dancers from a bygone era might be too advanced in years (or, even worse, already dead) to put on much of a show anymore, and not worth seeing in person. Not so fast! Over the decades, these groups have replaced some of their former members with younger and more energetic fellows, but who still manage to move and sound just like the originals, and when it comes to putting on a show, these acts basically wrote the book, and then some, good golly Miss Molly. The Temptations came out first, in flashy red jackets, and hit the stage in full stride, at full volume, and at full throttle, grabbing the audience by the lapels right from the opening drumbeat. Of course, they have no trouble launching into an unbroken string of their hits (after all, they had so many) each one with its own precise choreography and memorable harmonies - and not to mention, the (perhaps unwelcome) addition of audience participation, as the AM Radio generation sang along with all the familiar words as one. There was not a lull in the proceedings from beginning to end, and many of their timeless classics, like "Can't Get Next to You" or "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" tore the roof off the place, in a way that modern hipster musicians could only dream of. It was a whale of a show, and I don't mind saying that more than a few of us were hoarse from shouting, as well as hard of hearing from the loud music. They never let up for a solid hour, and after they finally dragged themselves off the stage, I don't know who was more worn out, them or the audience.     After that, the poor over-matched Four Tops couldn't possibly hope to compete, but it must be said that they certainly gave it all they had, in snazzy black sequins and plenty of enthusiasm. They also trotted out a familiar string of hits, plus a couple of surprises along the way, and no slouches in the harmony and choreography departments either. Their biggest hits, like "It's the Same Old Song" and "Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch," were faithfully recreated, and once again, the audience participation came in loud and heavy on every side. For a mostly WASP-y audience of people our age (although I did notice a few misguided individuals apparently brought their grandchildren with them, for some reason) they certainly rocked the rafters in the joint, and stayed up way past their bedtime, with a lot more gusto than I would have expected. For anyone who has a chance to go see them, I would say to run, don't walk, and snap up some tickets before it's too late.     A pleasure excursion like this, which went so blissfully well, is exactly what you would expect from an event that was planned many, many months ago last year, with all the details meticulously arranged way ahead of time, and thanks ever so. Au contraire! (That's French for "They laughed, Igor!") It all started innocently enough, as these things so often do, when when Bill scarfed up some tickets for this Motown show, coinciding as they did with my birthday weekend, and invited our Albany friends to join in the fun as well. They not only jumped on the bandwagon with both feet, but immediately booked rooms at a nearby hotel so we could all stay overnight and make a whole celebration out of it, with the concert as the icing on the cake, as it were. Things started to go a little bit off the track as soon as we found out their hotel choice had no pool, which is one of the things that we always look forward to in our travels. I remembered that our whole family had spent one Christmas years ago at a Marriott hotel in the area, and it was so cozy and charming that I always wanted to go back, plus it had the added advantage of a pool and hot tub, so we talked them into changing the hotel reservation based on my recommendation. This all seemed to be holding together admirably, right up until just about the last minute - when our friends called out of the blue, and said unfortunately they were too ill to make the trip, thanks not. This was a low blow indeed, and left us with 2 extra seats and one extra hotel room at the 11th hour on a previously well-planned trip that we had been looking forward to for months, that now seemed to be falling apart around our ears. In the end, we were able to get a refund for the extra room, and press my sister into service in the place of our friends at the concert, so it was not a total loss after all. She also joined us for dinner, and a welcome splash in the pool, plus a soak in the hot tub, and for a change of pace, a relaxing stop in their sauna as well. Bill and I liked the place well enough, but it somehow just didn't seem like the old Christmas hotel from years ago, and we couldn't figure out what they had done to it in the meantime. I explained our dilemma to my sister, only to have her cheerfully pipe up with the simplest explanation, "Oh no, this isn't that place at all - that's the Hilton on the other side of the highway." So the punch line to this story turned out to be that we went to all the trouble of changing our reservations so we could stay at the Christmas hotel once again, only to wind up at the wrong hotel anyway. Talk about just my imagination, Berry Gordy! Elle