Strange (but Pleasant) Final Night (for me) at the Hollywood Bowl

The offerings this season were overall much more enjoyable than last year's--in no small measure perhaps due to the guest reappearance of the wonderful John Mauceri for the Fantasia presentation with the Orchestra.

But our last appearance at the Bowl, me, Len, of Len Speaks, Mr. Anonymous of the Deluxe Furnished Barbara Judith Apartments, and guest attendees Leo and Connie, was by far the best in my humble blogging view. Courtesy of uncharacteristic weather patterns for southern California, it also had a mysterious and rather symbolic cast.

We started off the evening with a soujourn for dinner at the Rooftop Grill. That is always a treat. And it seemed, perhaps because I was especially hungry, but still, this meal was exceptional. A discrete cloud cover had been with us all day, making the temperature rather pleasant, though you could feel the moisture in the air. And a particular white sun kissed billow hung over the mountains, you know, the kind that you feel you can scoop up when you fly over them on some trip cross country. And then, there was this full size, right out of the movies (this being Hollywood apropos) rainbow for the diners to consume visually. Actually, there was a double rainbow, the second not quite so spectacular, but clearly there. I have seen other partial rainbows in my life, including some in Hawaii, that tropical locale, but never have a seen the kind where you could believe that you might find a pot of gold at the end thereof. It created a stir in the crowd, cell cameras flashing. I had forgotten mine and I was regretful of my inability to immediately post on Facebook, but there were plenty of such posts no doubt around me!

Given the unsettled nature of my life seeing a rainbow was a particularly good sign, and for me, it had a lovely Providential cast. It was, as well, a reminder of the glory of Creation. I couldn't have felt more at peace and enjoying this spectacle in the place that, during the summer, is one of my absolute favorite locales, as readers of this blog know.

The rainbow lasted a long time and by the time it faded, we were off for our musical offering, hosted by Alex Trebek, questions about film clips that we were offered that we answered using complimentary phosphorus sticks, blue, green and red.

As the sun was going down, the still present clouds and those moving in with the actual threat of rain were tinged a miraculous red. More pictures were snapped. At one point, as we moved from one spot to another, the micro-climate that is LA became manifest. In steps you went from needing a sweater to needing to doff it. A little eerie actually. . . .

And then there were the clips, and the music, from Big Country, Singin' in the Rain, To Kill a Mockingbird., High Noon.  The films were mostly old ones, except for Sleepless in Seattle, and something about the fact of the voices of long dead stars echoing in the canyon that is the Bowl, along with the music, made me wistful about the fast passing of life and the good fortune I have had in seeing these performances, in the past, and at that moment. During the theme from To Kill a Mockingbird I thought of my dad. I thought of the clarity of honor and the obligation to carry it on that seems to have been lost to us. I cried a little in honor of a world of heroes now mostly gone.

But continuing in the strangeness of the evening was the clip from The Bride of Frankenstein, you know, the lightning created wife for Boris Karloff--Elsa Lanchester. As the lightening was crackling on the screen, "It's alive! It's alive!", so was the lightening by the hills just beyond us sparking. And as the wind on the screen increased a significant blast touched us. Leo said he really liked these special effects.  And it sure smacked of traditional Hollywood magic, courtesy, however, of that major director, Mother Nature.

I cannot wait to see what next season has in store for us!