Last night Kish and I went out to dinner and then hoofed it over to the nearby Southern Theater for a ProMusica Chamber Orchestra program called “The Romantic Piano.” It was an excellent show that featured pieces by Bizet, Saint-Saens, and Schubert. (The Schubert selection was his rollicking Symphony No. 1, which was a pretty impressive piece of work by a 16-year-old.)
It was a great end to a wonderful weekend that (finally) let us enjoy some terrific weather, and it was intentional, too. Lately we’ve been making a conscious effort to get out of the house and do something fun on Sunday nights. We’ve gone to dinners and musical performances and nightclubs, and when some of the spring and summer shows start, like the summer movie series at the Ohio Theater, I’m sure we’ll add those to the mix, too. We’ve found that stodgy old Columbus has a lot to offer on Sunday nights.
The theory behind this effort is simple: let’s end the weekend with a bang, not a whimper. Sure, you can ease in to Sunday night, plop down on the sofa, put your feet up on the coffee table, and watch whatever HBO or your cable channel of choice is showing, and it’s a perfectly acceptable capstone to the weekend. Unfortunately, I usually end up nodding off if I watch too much TV, and I always think, uncomfortably, of how Angela Lansbury racked up huge ratings with the blue-haired set on Sunday night with Murder, She Wrote. It seems like camping out in front of the flat screen and watching TV on Sunday night is something old people do. I’m not quite ready to go there, yet.
That doesn’t mean we won’t be watching the first installment of the new Game of Thrones next week — we’re not being puritanical about it, and I’m as interested in learning whether Jon Snow survives as the next person. We are realizing, though, that there’s real value in getting off your duff, off the couch, and out into the community on the last night of the weekend.