From Handel to Horror

Last night, I attended a professional choral performance entitled "Angels, Demons & Kings". The first act consisted of three pieces by G. F Handel, which were magnificent (save the one soprano solo by that blaring facial contortionist -- I swear the only other time I've seen a face contort like that was in The Mask with Jim Carey!).

I should have gathered from the title of the concert that not all of the music would be angelic. Still, I was totally unprepared for the second act of the performance. With titles such as The Morning Stars, Hail Mary, Christ, the Fair Glory and so on, I was expecting your typical liturgical fare. I couldn't have BEEN more wrong.

At first, we were treated to an orchestral prelude meant to evoke the Chaos of the time before creation. The tympani, organ and dissonant strings did a magnificent job and I thought we were in for a treat... then the reading began. There were two readers: a British gentleman and a local woman. He sounded dignified and stately, she like a bad Shakespearean actress run amok. On and on she droned in a sickeningly sweet sing-song voice only a deaf mother could love.

As the piece progressed, the speaking was only briefly interrupted by song - harsh and atonal -- names and phrases were hurled at the audience, who shifted uncomfortably in their seats. On and on the readers jangled until even the fair Brit's accent irritated... the songs growing increasingly strident. I found myself gritting my teeth and begging for the end - fearing that one more stanza would cause me to throw myself onto the nearest sharp object.

When at last we were relieved of the suffering I leapt to my feet to escape the scene of this atrocity. I pray only that my standing was not mistaken for an ovation, for I confess that Mr. Britten's Company of Heaven was reminiscent of a place much farther south.

NPFLN

At the end of my block is one of the most bizarre sights I've ever seen. The house itself is pretty ordinary -- a brick ranch circa 1970. It's the yard that causes people to do a double-take. You see, these folks have the oddest outcroppings of flowers in their yard that you've ever seen. Here it is October and there are tulips blooming along the driveway and Jonquils surrounding the bird bath. There are even crocus and forsythia surrounding the various and sundry pieces of yard art (ranging from the blessed Virgin to fake squirrels, bunnies and geese).

It's obvious from the turquoise trim on their red brick house that these folks aren't blessed with the best taste in the world, but why, pray tell, would anyone put PLASTIC flowers in their yard (and I DO mean IN their yard -- there's not a flowerbed to be found)? And if you ARE going to 'plant' fake flowers, you could at least go to the trouble to make them appear somewhat realistic -- these things are sticking out of the ground so far that you can see the big green spike that usually goes inside the vase!

I have half a mind to sneak over there one night, gather them all up and put them in a garbage bag on their front porch with a note and a gift certificate to Home Depot.

"Dear neighbor, please do us all a favor (and our property values too), and go to Home Depot to buy some REAL flowers! We'll even help you plant them in REAL flowerbeds!

Sincerely,

Your non-plastic-flower-loving neighbors.

P.S. You'll find the Virgin and her petting zoo around back. We thought they'd be more comfortable there."