Viva LaVida

Once a year, my mother in law treats me, Tenley, and herself to one of the Broadway series touring shows at our local Civic Center.  No matter when the show occurs, it is my birthday present for that year.  This is a cherished tradition, since we both love Broadway and enjoy spending time together.  This year, we were excited to see “A Chorus Line.”  I had finally gotten around to watching the movie, and my nieces’ dance recital last summer was structured around the theme of “A Chorus Line” so it was a perfect choice for the year. 
When we arrived at the Civic Center, I was standing there trying to figure out where to go.  Our tickets said “Section C”, but Section C appeared to be blocked off so I was starting to walk in the complete opposite direction (which would have had me, Barb, and Tenley circumnavigating the entire Civic Center), when one of the ushers noticed that lost look on my face and offered to help.  She noted that these were the floor seats, so we had to go past the blocked off area to get downstairs via elevator.  Before escorting us downstairs, though, she overheard our discussion about getting a souvenir program and pleasantly reassured us that she would be ready whenever we were.  Once we had made that purchase, and came back, she informed us that there was no intermission, so if we wanted drinks or anything from the concession area, we needed to go ahead and do it.  More delay for her while we got ourselves organized.  When I asked about the bathrooms downstairs, she reassured me there would be a restroom stop downstairs. 
While Tenley and I were using the ladies’ room, Barb and our usher were talking.  Barb learned that the usher had been working at the Civic Center for twelve years.  As she led us through the innards of the Civic Center (through which you have to travel to get to the floor seats), she chatted with us, smiling the whole time.  When it came time to hand us off to our next usher, I was kind of sad to travel out of the orbit of someone so warm, friendly, and engaged in her job.  That’s when I asked her name, since I was already having an inkling of my blog topic for tonight.  Her name, she said (with a smile, of course) was LaVida. 

When I got home that night, I noted in my Facebook status how much I had enjoyed the show, but also how much I had enjoyed getting such fantastic customer service.  A friend of mine who is a certified registered nurse anesthetist said to me once, “I work to support my expensive hobbies.”  The more life experience I have, the less inclined I am to settle for the “either or” inherent in that sentence.  I recently read a reference to a book entitled, “9 to 5 Should Be Happy Hour.”  I also agreed with Seth Godin’s closing line of today’s blog, “The less a project or task or opportunity at work feels like the sort of thing you would do if this is just a job, the more you should do it.” 
I was at a get-together last night for people interested in the film industry.  A young man sitting across from me, who wants to get into film school, responded to the organizer’s question about his goals by saying, “I would be happy to sit in a room editing film all day.”  Something tells me he’s a pretty darned good editor.  I feel the same way about proofreading and editing the written word — it’s almost relaxing — and since I take joy in it, my product is (hopefully) a win-win for everyone.
I wish I had thought to get LaVida’s picture Tuesday night.  I thought about doing it as we were leaving, but she was pushing a wheelchair into the seating area for a disabled patron …….. with a smile on her face.  I didn’t want to interrupt her “happy hour.” 
I’ll “run” into you next week, readers!

2 thoughts on “Viva LaVida

  1. What a great story, Paula! Meeting people like that can really add to your experience and I'm sure made your memories of this happy event even happier. I'm glad you, Barb, and Tenley had such a great time. I'm so blessed to be able to stay home and spend my time doing what I really love – writing. 9-5 for me truly is happy hour! (Now if only I got paid for it…)

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