A Pre-Summer Night's Scheme

Stacy is a chronicler of strange anniversaries. I get the point of memorizing the wedding anniversary, the birthdays of our children, etc., etc., but Stacy keeps track of neigh unto everything and affords each reminiscence a surprisingly large allotment of honor and esteem. I usually smile and try to humor her when she reminds me that such-and-such a day is the day we first played Yahtzee together or the first time we ate at the In-N-Out in Costa Mesa. Her plethora of accumulated date marks is generally benign and somewhat amusing, if only for the chance to tease her about her capacity for pointless trivia. Occasionally, however, the preservation for posterity of these less-than-landmark events works to my advantage. Take last night for example. It was either the day of our first date, or the day that I proposed, I can't remember. (But I'm sure I was and will again be reminded.) Stacy cornered me and made me promise to be home from work early enough to go out that night. She wouldn't tell me where - it was to be a surprise. I did so and with babysitter firmly ensconced, we went off for our celebratory evening. First it was dinner at the New Orleans Cajun Cafe in Hermosa Beach and some of the best seafood gumbo I have ever had in my life. (Stacy's Crawfish Etouffee was deadly delicious too.)


Since we came all the way to Hermosa Beach I suspected rightly that we were going to go see something at the Hermosa Beach Playhouse, but it wasn't until we parked the car that I learned she had got us tickets for the South Bay Civic Light Opera's production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream." It was a great treat and the perfect call. (I was afraid it was going to be "South Pacific," which, for some unenchanted reason, I can't stand.) I'm a big Shakespeare buff and in particular have always enjoyed this play. The cast was fresh and talented and the performances spot on. The only downside was that we were seated in the thick of a mob of 7th graders evidently getting credit for some lit class. Pubescent barely-teens (much like Bottom, the play's star-stuck tragedian), are quite consummate at making asses of themselves. But at least by the end of the production they had stopped flirting raucously with each other and actually seemed to be pretty well engaged in the production.

All in all, it was a great evening, and it is well-crafted, celebratory events like this that will forever keep alive cherished memories like the first time we got stuck in traffic together on the 405.