Have you ever wondered why black is the color designated for usher clothing? I guess it could be because it might make it easier to get volunteers. The odds of a person not owning black pants, shirt and shoes are pretty low--probably about the same as my cat not finding and eating a free range rubber band and then throwing it up. So, yeah, I suppose already having the clothing would make it harder to refuse a person on bloody knees begging you to usher. However, after last weekend, I now think the real reason usher clothing is black is because it makes them invisible when they need to slink down the aisles, in the dark, with late arrivers. This last symphony not only proved me wrong in my predicted low attendance, but unfortunately, it was also attended by an incredibly large number of thoughtless concert goers.
Our conductor is very laid back as far as conductors go. He doesn’t get upset if people clap when they shouldn’t; he’s cheerful and friendly and genuinely happy people are sitting in the audience. He’s nothing like the guy who conducted a symphony we attended in Rock Springs once. I still feel bad for the woman who forgot to inform her baby of the proper conduct at a symphony. If only she would have said, “Baby, do not squeak, gurgle, or coo at any time during the concert. Not once.” Soon after the music began, the baby made a small sound. The conductor stopped the orchestra, turned around, and shot daggers from his eyes straight into the mother’s eyes until she slunk out of the auditorium clutching her baby, never to be seen again. But even a laid back maestro deserves better than the proliferation of unforgivably rude concert goers that crawled out from under rocks for the final concert. The lights were dimmed, the symphony had begun and people were still sauntering in. I’m not talking about slipping in just before the doors closed (although there were plenty of those folks). I’m talking about unapologetic, shameless people who showed up five or ten or even 15 minutes after the musicians had been playing.
I have never figured out why it is so hard for some people to be on time. Do their watches not work? Do they not own a clock? Are they so busy and important they just can’t leave whatever oh-so-important thing they’re busy doing and get to the concert on time? It’s not like they jumped up from planting their spring onions, threw down the trowel, gasped “I’m late for the concert!” and showed up at the door out of breath, covered in compost and apologizing profusely. No, these people were strolling in decked out in their best symphony duds. Is their genetic makeup part peacock? “Oh, look at me. I’m walking to my seat. I’ve fluffed up my feathers and puffed up my chest. Look at my big peacock feather butt.” Do they think they are more important than a stage full of musicians? They’re not only rude but they’re stupid. It’s dark. Nobody can see them anyway.
And as long as I’m on the topic of rude, I’m a bit annoyed at the other ushers who seem to feel they can carry on loudly whispered conversations at the back of the auditorium, during the concert, while sitting in the (albeit very uncomfortable) folding chairs. Isn’t that what intermission is for? Tell each other about your bunions and how your son can’t get a job while you’re in the VIP room eating cookies and drinking punch. Come on…..you who complained about the late-arrivers and their rudeness. Get a clue. Or next season I might feel compelled to stab you with a peacock feather.◦
