This blog was written yesterday, which was Saturday.
I am in a state of grace today – why I do not know for sure. But regrets (for that emotion) I have none.
I walked to Vancouver Art Gallery to view the Monet exhibit. It was a popular event and there was a huge line BUT I am a member, so I sped by them all. It was an incredible and inspirational voyage (actually) as it brought back so many memories of the many times i have been to France, perhaps eight times and for long visits. The exhibit focuses on the Secret Garden and I have been to Giverny, But as well as that memory there were paintings I had originally viewed in various museums in Paris, Japan and Copenhagen. My enraptured attention was interrupted by folks snapping pictures of the paintings, a practice that I generally find silly and irritating and get grouchy. But instead, today, I pitied them because they will never have the experiences I have. In order to have memories it is necessary to savor the moment, be in the now. They may have the picture but they will not have the moment and besides there are post cards. I did snap pictures of paintings for the Tate book but they were part of a whole experience. (see blog of February 18, 2017).
Later I munched on a hot dog, listened to music at Robson Square, retrieved a lost sweater from the Guess story, bought a coverup for the next week’s Sundrai’s pool party (more later). Then it was homeward bound. A brief visit with Triple P and Triple S, a long visit with Son, the Crooner and afterwards listened to the wonderful music of Jacob Williams playing at the Champagne Bar and Lounge for their High Tea.
There were some irritating moments however that were caused by traffic noise. The specific traffic noise of which I speak is intentionally malfunctioning buffers on motorcycles and extremely expensive cars such as Lamborghinis. My plan, showing some grace is to approach the owners of the expensive automobiles and say in a deferential voice: “Can you not afford a new muffler?” It will have no effect whatsoever most probably but then I could subtly give them a hand gesture as they speed off. It would probably not be such a good idea to do the hand gesture when they are in front of me as they would run over me.
The cars are bad enough but the motorcycles are far worse. They are problematic because the noisy mufflers actually do cause a post traumatic stress reaction because of the rather sad truth of an accident that occurred on September 13, 2014. I write in horrific detail (Please see blog of
April 23, 2017). The noise of the undone muffler is so unnecessary. My clever inventive mind has come up with a theory (that has not been tested). I opine, and everyone agrees that the muffler noise is inversely related to the “member” of the driver. Why else would they feel they have so much to prove? They want to be noticed – well sound, no fury, some wise person said. These drivers would not make suitable companions. I have racked my brain to come up with a solution and just the other day I spied a Code Enforcement car with an officer inside. I inquired about a noise ordinance. He informed me that there was one.
Me: Why is it not enforced?
He: It is part of the Motor Vehicle Act and so the police are the enforcement officers.
Me: Why are they not enforcing it?
He: I have no idea.
So my brilliant inventive mind came up with the following idea based on my legal training. I could do a citizen’s arrest using my iPhone. But fortunately my state of grace intervened. Phew!Instead when I go out I will put in my earphones and listen to classical music and not hear the noise made by the inadequate, insecure men.
But here is the surprise that you have been waiting for. Two nights ago I took the elevator to the third floor of the Trump International Hotel and went to the night club commonly called Drai’s. Everyone faints when they hear this and they are in a state of disbelief. But yes, I did and I have pictures and apparently a video to prove it. Also a stamp on my hand although it is faded. Did I have a good time? I was the life of the party – no one and I mean no one could believe I was 74. I had more energy than the pretty young things who stared at their phones and limp and not present. Many marveled at my age and energy.
They: I want to be like you when you are 74.
Me; No you don’t because the first 18 years of my life were horrific.
Me: Yes, really. And afterwards I had no time to go to nightclubs what with law school at night and all.
I never could dance – ever. But I can now. You should see the video.
But then something awful happened. I had a post traumatic stress reaction – it was the noise, the lights and I felt imprisoned, I guess. I knew enough to leave immediately and to seek safety. I found it at the LL with Scott and then wonderful S. from Drai’s brought me my purse and keys. I found safety on the nineteenth floor of the Trump International Hotel.
Picture of me dancing will be posted. I do not think that anyone is ready for the video. (hahahaha)