A New Kind of Gift

Last night I went with my son in his jazzy sports car to Toronto to Massey Hall and a Wynton Marsalis concert. (You have to check out his website!) Getting there was half the fun or more.
We left mid afternoon, talked all the way there, had very few traffic slowdowns, and drove out of the foggy slop that had plagued southern Ontario all day. Watching the remaining snow patches along the side of the road was weird because there was actual fog lifting from the snow. I guess the air was so warm--around 12C above--that there was some kind of cloud-forming thing happening off the cold snow. Kind of cool.
We talked a lot as we always do, Kevin had to answer a few business calls along the way, and by 5:00 p.m., we had seated ourselves in his favorite little Italian restaurant on Front Street. The dark wood, the bright tiles inlaid on the floor, the sumptuous napkins, silverware and wine glasses waiting to be filled--all added to an ambience of pleasure. The food we consumed over the next two hours was very good, our waiter was the exact right mix of friendly and professional, and before we knew it the time to leave was at hand.
Heading for Yonge Street, we had no idea what the traffic would be like as people approached the theatres in the area, letting out passengers, stopping and waiting--we made two car lengths on each traffic light before it would turn red again. Crazy! Eventually we got close to Massey Hall and I jumped out while Kevin parked. I found my seat and wondered if he would make it before the start. Soon enough, though, he was beside me and ten seconds later the show started. What timing!
The great Wynton Marsalis and the Jazz at the Lincoln Center orchestra did not disappoint. They numbered fifteen people and variously took turns playing solo spots from the fabulous string bass player, to the trumpeters, from the reeds--clarinet, saxes, and something that looked like a bassoon--to the pianist, all were entertaining and many were awesome. My trumpet-playing son told me of some of the nuances that I missed and that added to the texture of the evening. People do have different points of view at something like that, as I have found when I attend anything vocal. I see things most people don't because of my singing background.
The evening was a great success and our drive home full of interesting conversation and comfortable silences. We had no traffic problems, thank goodness, and arrived home about 12:10. Whom do we have to thank for this event? My hubby. One of my Christmas gifts--a new kind of gift for us--was a night at this concert with my son. And, naturally, I must thank my son for the lovely dinner and the trip down. I am very blessed.