I'm an Uncultured Heathen.

I'm an uncultured heathen.

A friend won tickets to the Central Texas Orchestral Society Van Cliburn Recital featuring 2013 gold medalist Vadym Kholodenko.

I didn't make it past Chopin.

In my defense, I had too much sun and tension at the homecoming game, and it was dark and cool, and the chairs were very comfy, and the first few pieces: Berceuse,  op. 57 (was not to my liking at all), and Nocturne in G Minor, op 37, no. 1 was lullabyish. And I complied.

I perked up for Nocturne in G Major, op 37, no 2.  Unfortunately, it was not a second wind rally which usually sees me through into the wee small hours of the night.

By the time he performed Bolero, op 19 (frankly, the only thing that sounded remotely familiar), and Tarantella, op 43, the comfy seats had done their number on both of us.

I'm afraid we gave up on trying to stay awake for Liszt and Scriabin--we left at intermission.

And I got caught skipping out on culture by a co-worker.

Of course, now that I've been outside in the cool air, I'm wide awake. So I'm gassing up the car and buying DDPs and something for lunch for tomorrow (I have to work and the Canteen is closed so I have to bring my lunch).

It's a double whammy on the heathenism--skipping church tomorrow and skipping culture tonight.

At least I didn't snore. Or drool.

I don't think.