Wednesday, 7 August 2013

The Senior Cat went to a

"concert" yesterday. There is one held each month at a local hall. It is perhaps better described as a "musical interlude" for seniors - indeed it is called "Seniors in Harmony".
It is run by the local council and one of the local churches. There is a small "gold coin" donation at the door and the audience is treated to some live music and then a cup of tea and scones.
The Senior Cat goes, so he tells me, to support the woman who does most of the organising. He tries to make sure the work she puts in, which is considerable, is appreciated. He also tries to make sure that the performers are thanked informally as well as formally even if he has not been enthused by the performance.
There have been a wide variety of performances. The usual choirs, including school choirs, have appeared. There have been duos and trios and quartets. There have been school "orchestras", a recorder group, a pianist and a flautist.
Once someone came and played several African drums. The Senior Cat came home saying he did not understand the performance at all. He was, I suspect, bored rigid - but too polite to say anything. I was not surprised he did not understand. He has no sense of rhythm. As a small boy at school he could not march in time to the beat of the drum - something that had to be done back in his extreme youth.
My mother despaired of his lack of rhythm. She despaired of his inability to dance. School and other rural balls were a nightmare for her. My mother could dance. She did it quite well. She complained the Senior Cat had "two left feet". He would do the obligatory "waltz" with her and the wife of the School Committee chairman but you could see by the earnest concentration on his face that he was not enjoying himself. Once back in the city they never went to dances of any sort although there was a ball room only a few streets away with a regular Saturday night dance session.
Yesterday the Senior Cat came back. Yes, he had enjoyed the session. There had been a vocal group of some sort. There had been a pianist about whom he was enthusiastic. He had enjoyed watching the pianist as well as hearing her. He envies people who can play musical instruments.
And then, and I knew it was coming, he said to me, "And they played that piece of know the one that goes...."
He tried to sing it to me. The Senior Cat cannot sing in tune. He has mouthed the words of anything he has been expected to sing for years.  I had absolutely no idea which one he meant so I just said,
"Oh yes."
He caught me out of course. He wanted to know what it was called and who had written it.


jeanfromcornwall said...

I've got one of those in my house! He has simply missed out on the music gene -which means he can't dance either. He has trouble recognising tunes, but it doesn't spare him the discomfort of a school orchestra playing all the wrong notes - he can still "appreciate" that!

catdownunder said...

Ah - nice to know that you have one too Jean!