A Good Day

They don't come around very often anymore; i.e., "Good Days," but when one does happen to catch me by surprise...I savor it. No, I wallow in the lusciousness of a day that was thoroughly enjoyed. Now, I realize full well that we cannot expect to live our lives in a constant state of euphoria, nor...hopefully...do we live the majority of our days in a black pit of despair. Neither of those scenarios is practical nor even healthy.

Fact is, most days, I just muddle through, doing my thing and just grateful (mostly) that I made it through alive when all is said and done at the end of the day. Granted, I am the first to admit that my "expectations" bar is set pretty low these days, but every now and then along comes a day that manages to exceed my expectations in such a way that even I could not have anticipated. Yesterday was one of those days.

It started out as a typical Saturday. I awoke at the crack of dawn...one of the vagaries of "old age" that my parents warned me about, but that I assured them would never befall me. Yeah, who's saying, "told you so," now? I checked the blog world to gauge all the hullabaloo around the release, or rather the posting on YouTube, of Vincent D'Onofrio's "Five Minutes Mr. Welles." Then, I decided I had to get out of this apartment. The thing was...would my crappy body cooperate with me?

The first few seconds out of bed were...doubtful. I could barely straighten up all the way; my back was stiff and my knees were "cranky" as usual. Now, most days, I would have surrendered to the urge to throw in the towel and climb straightway back into bed with my laptop, a good book, and the remote for a DVD player loaded with Netflix movies. But yesterday, I found myself filled with a sense of resolve that, frankly, I had not experienced in a long, long while.

So, I took a long, HOT, shower to get everything all loose. Then I slathered on the latest...in a very long line...of magical "elixirs" I have purchased to help lubricate my aching joints, took a dose of "Aleve" to help with the pain/inflammation...and off I tottered. You have to understand, I didn't used to be this "housebound." I have always had a pretty active lifestyle, in fact. But when one gets to the point in life when every step one takes wracks one's body with excruciating pain...well...one starts to pick and choose one's outings.

I made my way downtown, parked at my "usual" garage and made my way across Fountain Square and up the street to the Aronoff Center. My goal for the day was to see Jersey Boys. You may recall that I purchased a ticket for this show for last Friday, but had to forgo seeing it because I wrenched my back that day. I still wanted to see it...even though that meant buying another ticket...and with only three performances left, it was pretty much a "now or never" situation.

As I was chatting with the sales girl as she helped me pick a seat for the Saturday matinee, I casually mentioned that I had purchased a seat for the previous Friday evening performance, but had been unable to attend. One of the other ladies behind the counter heard me say that, and she asked me if I had the ticket with me. I explained it had been a "will call" ticket, so they looked it up, and the next thing I know, they're handing me my ticket for the 2:00p.m. matinee...NO CHARGE. Okay, if you're keeping score...first indication that this has the potential to go down in Lou Ann's book of "good days." After thanking the ladies profusely and vowing to be a patron for life, I exited the Aronoff Center and went in search of lunch.

One of the things I had noticed during my walk downtown was that a number of new restaurants had sprung up since the last time I had ventured into the city proper, which upon reflection, I realized had not been since last August. So, I scoped out a place called the "Cadillac Ranch" and went inside. It was still pretty early, so a large lunch crowd had not accumulated inside. I was escorted to a booth by a young lady who did not make a big deal out of the fact that I was dining alone...bless her heart. Once seated, I was turned over...as it turned out...to Melissa's very capable hands.

I knew early on that Melissa was going to be a "keeper," meaning I'll remember her name and ask to be seated at her table the next time I go to this restaurant. I am a "lots of ice" kind of gal. To me, you simply cannot get a drink COLD enough, so I always -- and this gets on Nathaniel's nerves -- ask for lots of ice when I order my drinks; i.e., tea or diet sodas. For me the mark of a good server is if the beverage glass arrives filled with ice, an indifferent server... well...there may be a few cubes floating along the top of the glass, but the exceptional server, like Melissa, she brought me an extra glass of ice. It may not mean much to you, but for me it means Melissa is going to be well-rewarded for paying attention to small details like that.

Cadillac Ranch is a country-themed restaurant, complete with country music, a dance floor, and a mechanical bull. Melissa told me that the place "rocks" on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Now back in the day...not all that long ago...before my knees started doing a pretty good imitation of a bowl of Rice Krispies freshly doused with milk, I used to dance. Yep, you read that right...this big ol' girl could "bust a move" with the best of 'em. There was a country dance club right across the highway from my house back home, and I was there anywhere from three to five nights a week. (Those were the days, my friends.) But that is a story for another time.

Moving along...suffice to say, I enjoyed a delightful lunch. The food was great. Melissa was attentive without being overly so, and there were no intrusive neighboring conversations that disrupted my dining pleasure. It was, dare I say it, the "Goldilocks" of lunch experiences. Okay, "good day" status still intact.

The final test...the show.

After lunch, I wandered back over to the Aronoff. Like someone else I obsess about...I like to watch...people that is. So, I found a bench inside the Center to await the time when the ushers would start allowing people to take their seats, and I watched. Sometimes, I like to invent little conversations about the people I observe...like how they chose that particular outfit for the occasion, or yes, your butt does look big in those pants. (Yes, I know, I'm a fine one to talk, but...hey...my butt looks big in everything.) Other times, when I see an elderly couple walking together hand-in-hand, it makes me a bit melancholy. One thing I noticed...there were a lot of old folks, young folks, and middle-aged folks coming to see this show. Ah, music...the ultimate equalizer.

Once inside the auditorium and safely ensconced in my seat, I eagerly awaited the moment when they would dim the lights and get this show on the road. Now, I have to say that I was not a huge fan of the Four Seasons. Sure, I grew up listening to their songs on the radio. Who among us has not sung "Big Girls Don't Cry" at the top of their lungs, trying to duplicate those far reaching Frankie Valli octaves? I don't even know if I own any of their albums, and I do mean albums because if I have anything, they would be on vinyl.

Anyway, the show started and I was hooked from the get-go. It was waayyy more than just an homage or tribute to their music. Anyone could have done that. This tells the story of the group...how they came into being...how they evolved...their highs...their lows...everything. And it's a good story. Each member of the group takes a "season" in which they tell the story from their personal, unique perspective. It was well done, well staged, and the songs...oh my...how the songs did take me back. I found myself crying a couple of times...not because of the group's struggles...but for the youthful memories those tunes triggered.

So, as I was driving home afterwards, I did my mental checklist and finally allowed myself to admit that...all in all...it had indeed been a "good day." Perhaps not by your standards, but I pretty much consider it a decent day when I don't encounter someone that makes me want to knock their teeth so far down their throat that they end up talking out of their butt...but that's just me.

Well, I did a search...you knew I had to...of YouTube, and look what I found.

The first video was posted by loc180 and is from a performance at the Tony Awards a couple of years ago. Yes, that's Joe Pesci making the introductions. Turns out, he played an integral role in bringing the group together. Who knew?



This video was posted by chunkychick (I applaud the gutsy id) and is from the London company of Jersey Boys.


I realize this was a rather lengthy post, so if you didn't make it all the way through...no worries. If you did, however, I'll buy dinner if any of us ever get to meet in person some day. Meanwhile, here's wishing that all your days are "good days."

One last thing about "Jersey Boys." While I cannot say it is the best Broadway show I've ever seen, it ranks pretty high on my list. I was entertained...I laughed...I cried...I clapped along with the music...did a little dancing in my seat. You can't ask for much more than that. So, if these boys ever come to your neck of the woods and you're looking for a way to wile away the evening...give them a chance. "Oh, What A Night" you will have.