Clare's Dad

Sometimes I wonder if this blog is boring you all to death.  I don’t go into what we’re making for dinner or where we go each day, but there’s not really a lot of entertainment or excitement here either.  Then something happens that makes me remember that I don’t care.  Because it’s the little things—the things we take for granted each day—that will someday make great memories and stories.

Yesterday, I went out to lunch with my aunt and uncle and a cousin.  My aunt is eighty-six years old and my mother’s sister.  After lunch, we were talking about Clare, her ballet lessons, and The Nutcracker.  My cousin asked whether the ballet was going to travel to the Palace Theater in a city about about twenty miles from us.  It’s going to be performed in our hometown and in Hartford this year, but not at this theater.

My cousin said that she had never been to this Palace Theater—which has been recently restored but had originally been a movie theater—and asked my aunt if she had.

“Years ago,” she said.  “Before we were married.  We saw that movie about the South.”

And then I realized that my aunt had seen Gone with the Wind in its original run in a 2500 seat movie palace in 1939.  That’s pretty cool—even though all she had told me was that she’d gone to the movies.

So, what are you doing this weekend?  We may take Clare to see High School Musical 3.  I know it doesn’t sound cool or exciting right now.  And it’ll never be a Gone with the Wind.  But if Clare’s kids or grandkids read this blog in about seventy years, it might just be fascinating.