I began this day feeling very unlucky. I’d seen in the newspaper that there was to be a concert tonight of Frank London’s Klezmer Brass All-Stars, whom we’d seen twice at last year’s Lowell Folk Festival. Tonight’s concert was at the courtyard in the Museum of Fine Arts, and tickets were $30 for adults, $24 for students/seniors. Knowing Akiva’s abiding love of klezmer, I wanted to take him, but the ticket prices were prohibitive. Bill and I talked it over, and we just didn’t feel comfortable committing that kind of money to something non-essential, especially at the beginning of the month. (Bill still works on commission, so if there are slow sales, there’s less money.)
So I called the MFA and pleaded my case. I was willing to pay for my ticket if they would consider comping Akiva. The box office passed me up to the visitor center. The next person I called put me on hold to take my request to her manager. Denied.
I was annoyed — what, they’d rather get nothing from us than get $30? Jerks. I went on Facebook to see if I could denounce the MFA somewhere. I was ready to start a boycott. How dare they deprive a six-year-old boy, no my six-year-old boy, of the chance to hear the music he loves? I was feeling all righteous. Anyway, on the MFA page, there were two links from local publications that were giving away tickets in a drawing.
I entered both and said a little prayer.
We went about the day, hoping something might come of it, not knowing quite how these things work. How will we know who gets the tickets? Do these things even work, anyway, or are they just designed to increase traffic to the site? Does anyone get the tickets?
About 3 in the afternoon, I turned on the computer and found a message in my email that I’d won the tickets! (I know everyone says this, but it’s really true: I never win anything!) My luck had turned.
The hitch was that I had to pick them up at the Boston Phoenix offices before 5 p.m. Concert was at 7:30.
The boys and I grabbed some snacks and headed out to the T station. We didn’t have to wait for a train. We got seats. It was well air-conditioned. We made it to the Phoenix and home by 5, at which point I desperately started dinner. Akiva and I managed to finish eating just as Bill was arriving home from work. Another mad dash got us to the MFA on time.
And so it was that on a day that began with cursing and continued with tears, my first-born and I sat under the stars to hear some truly amazing, virtuosic, joyful, soulful, thrilling musicmaking.
You really never know when your luck will change.