Story Swap

I seem to have overreacted to the snow, which is not an unusual reaction around here. It had pretty much stopped by the time I left the house to go to the monthly Voices in the Glen story swap. Actually, I only drove to Ralph and Margaret's house, and Ralph drove the rest of the way. Ellouise was hosting this month and we might as well have one fewer car meandering around Maryland.

Ellouise's husband, Jim, had lit their fireplace, which made a nice cozy winter setting. It was a small group - Ellouise, Jim, Ralph, Margaret, Jane, Cricket, and me. But storytelling is definitely an activity where size doesn't matter. Jane told a lovely piece about King Solomon's daughter, Margaret told a Liberian version of the Christmas story, Ralph told a story from Saki having to do with the myth that animals talk on Christmas evening. I was unseasonal with a personal story ("The Secret Place"). I haven't told it in a long time and felt that I didn't tell particularly well, rushing a bit because I was not confident that I was remembering particular details. Ellouise told a personal story that did relate to Christmas time. Jim listens well.

And then we had something of a second round, as Cricket mentioned a bit of American history that led to a couple of stories having to do with what words could be removed from a phrase. I used that to get more seasonal with Eric Kimmel's story about dreidels in Chelm. At the end, Cricket told a beautiful Abenaki story, "The Winter Wife."

We drank cider (the fresh pressed unpasteurized kind, tasting of actual apples and not just sugar water) and ate cookies, including gingerbread men Margaret had baked. In the car on the way back, Margaret commented on a story in which a witch is disappointed that her gingerbread men don't run fast enough, so it doesn't seem quite sporting to catch and eat them. I saw cookie cutters the other day of gingerbread men with body parts already missing. That would be decidedly unsporting except, perhaps, the one who is missing just an arm.

Kooza

Today's excursion in the "keep myself so busy that I don't get housework done" arena was to National Harbor to see Kooza, the touring Cirque du Soleil show. This was slightly complicated by scheduled roadwork on the Wilson Bridge, but I asked for advice on northern_va and attempted a route involving 66E to 110S to 395N to 295S. The "attempted" part is that there does not appear to be an actual freeway interchange between 395N and 295S and following the signs from 395 dumped me on some unknown road in a somewhat scary part of D.C.. There were signs to 495 and eventually it took me to 50E to 210S to 295S so sort of worked, but I suspect I was meant to turn at an unlabeled intersection right after getting off 395. (Unlabeled intersections are all too common around here, by the way. The on-ramp I most often use for 66E has nary a sign.)

At any rate, I had left myself plenty of time so it all worked and the signage at National Harbor itself was fine. Parking is a hefty $10, which is a bit annoying, given that the show is not exactly a cheap ticket to start with. They funnel you into a tent selling expensive food (4 bucks for a bottle of water! Okay, basically they are charging captive audience prices, just like ballparks do.) and souvenirs. I assume the latter are also expensive, but my interest in souvenirs is limited so I did not investigate.

My seat was excellent - about 4 rows from the front and dead center. I would suggest avoiding the front row and the aisle seats as there are some points where they get "volunteers" from the audience and that's where they look. It is also probably advantageous to be a few rows further back than I was for optimal viewing, but I don't think there's a really bad seat in the tent. By the way, the tent is heated. However, the water from the sinks outside the restrooms is not. Brrr! I can't exactly wash my hands with gloves on.

As for the show, it was pretty much what I expected. There's a sort of storyline, but it is thin and unimportant. One does not really go to the circus for a coherent narrative line. There's a lot of dancing, a bit too much clowning, and several impressive specialty acts. Alas, one of the specialty acts involves contortionists. They're very good at what they do, but I find contortionists creepy. (No idea why - I like snakes, for example, but there is something about watching women bend their backs in unnatural ways that nauseates me.) Aerial acts are far more pleasing. There was a scary moment when a high wire artist missed his landing, though he managed the particular trick he was doing on his second attempt and was impressive overall. The guy who balances on a stack of chairs also drew a lot of gasps. There was a trapeze artist, a unicycle act, vaulters (including one on stilts who drew a lot of "wows" and another who fumbled a landing) and so on. I have to give a special shout-out to the juggler, who was, simply, the best juggler I have ever seen. That may not be as dangerous as some of the aerial work, but his control was astonishing.

I don't really need to make a yay or no recommendation, since most people already know if they like this sort of thing. I have to admit to finding myself wondering why the performers have chosen to learn the skills they have. What makes somebody decide that jumping onto one end of a catapult to shoot vaulters into the air is a great career move? I can sort of grasp why somebody would want the applause and shouts that a phenomenal juggler gets, but why would somebody want to be his assistant? How does anybody discover they have a talent to ride a bike across a high wire or to fly from a trapeze? I suppose many of them come from circus families. but it's still weird.

The drive home was considerably easier from the directional standpoint. I could have lived without the blinding sun, however.