A random encounter found us in downtown Little Rock, anticipating a performance of Holst's "The Planets" by the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra . The much-anticipated event included a vocal cameo from the University of Arkansas - Little Rock Women's Choir. An evening of colorful sound began with "Night Ferry" by Anna Clyne , exploring the extremes of manic depression. The chaotic range of emotional intensities seemed to leave the audience in a state of bewildered fascination. After an intermission wide enough to refresh mind and body, "The Planets" by Gustav Holst exploded in the mind's eye next. This particular space heptalogy is likely one of the most recognizable symphonies, enjoyed through a variety of inspirations like the score from Star Wars. The choir entered near the end, perhaps at Neptune, blending in imperceptibly with the violins and their accompaniment. Their voices appeared as if by magic from behind the sc
A couple of folks from our crew participated in a run out at a local elementary school. The entire schools showed for this one, lined up and ready to be splashed with some colored powder or another. The more they ran the more colorful they became. Beats all around set a festive tone for everyone. Those of us participating chilled on the playground after a few laps, then joined back in for another lap or two to close out the day. Free drinks and snacks refreshed those otherwise banned from enjoying the ice cream truck.
There I was minding my own business and the next thing I knew I was surrounded by a flock of elderly folks waiting for the next number to drop. The coming solar eclipse had paved the way for a marathon bingo night, slated to last for nearly five hours. I had not done this since I was about 10 and was in for a ride. It all started reasonably enough, with food and general comradery. All of that quickly dissipated when the numbers started to drop. Things got serious then, so much so that our crew got shushed a couple times. Throughout most of the event, the only noise in the room, aside from the lady calling the numbers, the ceaseless whir of smoke-eaters gobbling up the haze of cigarette smoke as quickly as it could. The efforts was wasted. The crowd carried on undeterred, skillfully dabbing each number called, enraptured by the sound, or lack thereof, and the promise of striking it rich. A few did, though not quite enough to address the potential medical bills from li
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