And when I say “us” I mean, Liz, Kareena, and Rinda. The three of us girls work together in the Financial Aid Office and Friday while we were at work we got the word that Rinda’s roommate found three tickets to see the Hawaii Opera Theatre’s presentation of “The King and I” for pretty cheap. She couldn’t use them, so she was offering them to Rinda and anyone else who wanted to go. It was only a matter of time before we put three and three together and decided to make an outing of it–Micah had plans to hang out with the Deacons Quorum (poor guy). When you go to the theatre you have to dress up, of course, so by 5:30 we were decked out in all of our finery and ready for the adventure. Although, as much as I hate to say it, there wasn’t much adventure about it. We did have to drive to Ewa (where I’d never been before) to get the tickets from the lady selling them on Craigslist, and while I was nervous about running out of gas, and while we were running a little bit late, we found the place just fine and managed to get to a gas station. And then we found the theatre just fine. And then we found a parking spot just fine. And then we got into our seats a full five minutes before the show started. It totally shattered my expectations of what a trip down to town should be like (i.e. lots of frustration about finding the right roads, not being able to turn where I want to turn, having to park a mile away, etc. etc. etc.). And we still looked fresh as daisys in our formalest of formal wear.
I hate to say it, but the show wasn’t much of an adventure, either. Maybe it was because the King was a white guy. Or maybe it was the article in MidWeek that made him sound kind of conceited (apparently he is fairly famous . . . we didn’t have a clue . . . Richard Chamberlain, anyone?), but we all agreed that we never really felt anything for the king. Sympathy? Hatred? Confusion? Nothing. In fact, if I was expecting to be blown away by anything, if I was hoping to go there and see or hear or feel something that left me saying, “That was a great show,” I would have been disappointed. The only voice that stood out was Louis’s (Anna’s son). The only scene that stood out was “The Small House of Uncle Thomas” Ballet. The only part that moved me at all was a flute solo that made me want to go home and play my flute until the sun came up. And when the curtain went down, I felt very much as though they had played the movie for us with the real emotion drained out of it. Technically, flawless. Emotionally, lacking. I’m willing to say that this could have been because I spent a lot of the movie wondering how Micah was doing and hoping our car would be okay. But maybe this is also an indication of how emotionally unengaging I thought it was.
The unadventure continued after the show as we had no parking tickets, found our way to Likelike Highway without any trouble, and didn’t even get stuck behind any slow cars on the Kam Highway. That didn’t get me to loosen my white knuckle grip on the wheel, however, and by the time I got home to Micah I was just about ready to cry I was so happy to see him.