Williams & Williams

So David managed to surprise me last night. Let me just say that David, my love, father of my child, is crap with surprises. He gets so excited about them that he either spills all immediately or starts dropping extremely obvious hints until I figure it out. Even if he doesn't tell me outright or hint me into submission, should I get even a tiny bit close to finding out he acts so dismayed that I know something is afoot.

But two nights ago, he simply said "I want to take you out on Saturday night, what do you think?" A wonderfully vague way to get my commitment without revealing anything--could be something big, could be just a movie. Beautifully executed, darling. Of course then he blurts out, "Do you want to know where?", and then I knew it was a surprise, but I said not to tell me and anyway, this counts as serious progress.

How meticulously planned the evening was I did not know until we arrived at Severance Hall, home of the Cleveland Orchestra, and I see the program is a tribute to John Williams. Now, if you know me, you know I think John Williams is a musical deity, having basically written the soundtrack to my childhood (think Star Wars, Indiana Jones, E.T., Superman--what has he not written?). The place was packed; he must have ordered the tickets weeks ago. Weeks, people. Without so much as a single hint, with barely a blip on the oversharing radar. I was so impressed.

It was a lovely concert. Made even better by a bellyfull of wings and ribs a la Hot Sauce Williams, the home-cookin'-in-a-bad-neighborhood restaurant that was our only option once we realized that every place even remotely close to our destination had an hours long wait for a table. Still, Hot Sauce Williams? John Williams? Magic, my friends. Pure magic.