Old ballerinas never die . . .

ballet shoes line

ballet shoes line (Photo credit: jeff medaugh)

. . . they just learn to gesticulate.

I am not the most cultured person on the planet, so a trip to the ballet was always going to be an eye-opener.

We knew enough to don our Sunday best (even though it was a Tuesday) and off we went – two ballet-mad girls and their mum.

Turns out, we had front row seats. Excellent, I thought. The kids will have a great view.

The lights dimmed and the music began.

Now, I’m not sure what I expected at this point. Words, probably. Perhaps a narrator. (Yes, this is how worldly I am). Instead we spent the next five minutes watching a rather gaunt man gesticulating his way around the stage.

I’m sure it was meaningful. It may even have been poignant. Unfortunately, I was so busy suppressing the giggle that came from nowhere, that the significance of the moment was lost.

Eventually, he was joined on stage by actual dancing dancers. But I was in no fit state to simply sit back and enjoy. I bit the inside of my cheek. I hid my face behind my hands. I tried to point out something interesting for the sake of the ballet-mad girls sitting beside me.

Unfortunately, a small scale guffaw managed to escape from my lips.

I would like to think that no-one heard or saw a thing. Unfortunately, we were in the front row. So, the entire cast of Don Quixote was my audience.

I can only apologise.

I assure you, the ballet was memorable. It was entertaining. I’m just not sure that I’m any more cultured for the experience.


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