Not Much, You?

One summer Saturday after I graduated from college, I went through the boxes of papers under my bed, separating the wheat from the chaff. My intent was to prepare myself for the eventual move to adulthood and independence, and I knew I wanted to move as few boxes as possible when I found my first apartment. My first apartment ended up being just up the stairs in the third floor maids' quarters of my grandparents' colossal victorian house, but eventually I did need to carry the boxes a little bit further! That afternoon I had the radio on WHYY, the Philly NPR station, and listened for the first time to "Whad'Ya Know?", Michael Feldman's sarcastic and quirky quiz show. I was at first somewhat shocked by his disregard for courtesy, when my hitherto very innocent mind began to understand that he was being funny. I had led a fairly sheltered life, spending my teen years either practicing, going to church, doing homework or yelling at my younger sister (listed by percentage of time spent, though I'm not sure whether from most to least or vice versa!). At college I surrounded myself with other young women of similar ilk: religious, musical, scholarly and very earnest. I have since discovered that my college experience was not typical. Most people in their late teens and early twenties have not been preparing for their careers since the age of 7, and are using their first years away from home to experiment widely with their bodies and minds. I used mine to pine away over various earnest young men and become even more serious about music.
Anyway, my serious and earnest self suddenly discovered a show that was neither, and since then I have been a fan. Not devoted to the point of taping the show every week off the radio, but I did feel sad when I discovered the station in Indianapolis did not carry it. Fortunately, they came to their senses a few years ago, and though they don't air it live, they do air it now. I have become fairly busy with motherhood, but if I find myself stuck in the car with a sleeping little girl on Saturday afternoons, I get rewarded for my sacrifice by Michael Feldman.
Now imagine how my heart started to pump faster yesterday afternoon when I heard his reedy voice announce on the radio that he would be in Indy next month, merely weeks away, doing a live broadcast, and that if I wanted to go, I only needed to buy a ticket!! My pulse rushed, as I called my husband. I wanted him to bring up the information on the computer so I could call them when I got home after my rehearsal. He's what they call a sweetie, and called them himself, despite being phonophobic, and bought me a FRONT ROW ticket!!!!!
Now there's that tricky problem of getting out of that morning's rehearsal......