Last night we went to a concert at the Disney hall in downtown LA. First, though, we had dinner in Little Tokyo (really yummy udon noodles) and then I went into a Japanese outlet store and bought a bunch of pens, which make me very happy. I know a Pilot pen is supposedly a Pilot pen no matter where you go, but when it's in a pouch with Japanese writing all over it, it's way cooler.
So anyway, back to Disney hall. We saw the LA Master Chorale - the highlights were the Byrd Four-Part Mass, and John Taverner's Song for Athene.
We were sitting in the front row of the nosebleed section. The woman next to me kept putting her little beaded evening bag on the low little ledge in front of us. I really really, but really wanted to knock it off, down the twenty-or-so feet to the next section. I had to sit on my hands the entire second half.
The other thing I really wanted to do was jump off and do a superhero move where I'd grab onto the recording equipment hanging down, about fifty feet in front of me, and then swing back and forth. If life were Oblivion and I had become a master of Acrobatics, I'd totally have been able to do it. But seeing as how we don't live in Cyrodil, I probably would have broken my neck. Not cool.
It totally reminds me of how, when I was first learning to drive on the back roads in Lancaster County, I would always have this desire to swerve into oncoming traffic, or off the road, just to see what would happen. It reminds me of a quote I heard once, probably on This American Life - something about how the devil doesn't actually make us do evil, he just makes us forget that we have brains - something like that.