After weeks and months of debate meets, other people going off to NFL games and such, Katie and I finally found a day to head south to catch a show –
…if by “south” you mean “Cincinnati” – but it is south! And it was warmer!
A shaky start after emerging from 9:15 Mass at which the priest, not one to inject anything into the liturgy, solemnly ascended to the ambo to announce us that the “Chief of Police has informed me that the roads are very dangerous.” Now, the roads were slick and icy when we – and everyone else – drove to Mass, so I don’t know if Father was just late in the game or the Chief of Police was actually there at Mass and slipped him another warning somehow…

..but we headed out anyway. I’d seen that the forecast called for it to be in the 40’s in Cincinnati during the day, so we took our chances.
First stop was Dayton – the Dayton Art Institute which is hosting a visiting exhibit of mosaics found in a early 6th century (it is believed) synagogue in Tunis, mosaics which were rediscovered in the late 19th century, and have been with the Brooklyn Museum from a point not long after that.
The theme of the exhibit is broader than those mosaics though – it is about religion and everyday life in the Roman world. It includes a bit of pagan statuary, a marvelous sarcophogus and a few Christian items – one interesting reliquary shaped like a temple, some Coptic textiles, a liturgical spoon, and my favorite item – a very small clay oil lamp, dating from the 2nd or 3rd century, with a chi-rho on it.
The mosaics are really the stars, though, and they are gorgeous and even fresh – the inscription in the floor indicated they were donated by a woman named Julia: Your servant, Julia Nap., at her own expense, paved the holy synagogue of Naro with mosaic for her salvation. You can see the vision and hope of salvation here – vines and animals, illustrative of creation and re-creation. I can see why they wanted to flesh out the exhibit a bit, but honestly, the other items were like trinkets compared to the mosaics.
In the hall on the way to the Roman exhibit were several interesting, intriguging and charming nativity scenes, courtesy of the U. of Dayton Mary center. We had enough time just to head up to the European collection. A Murillo Immaculate Conception, a wonderful depiction of Charity (a nursing mother, as was common), a Madonna and child which I loved, but cannot find any note of on the museum’s site – the Child had a wonderful, friendly look on his face, and he was swaddled in a way that called to mind not only his infancy, but his death as well.
Katie was dangerously interested in the two pictures depicting Judith and Holofernes’ head.
After an hour and half, we moved on, past the large Greek Orthodox church that stands on one side of the museum and the enormous, imposing Masonic Temple that looms on the other.
We made our way down to Cincinnati – I wanted to get downtown before the Bengals’ game ended, which we were able to do, but I’m thinking that even if we had arrived later, traffic would not have been a problem. I’m just sayin’.
A bit of shopping was done, with an educational stroll through Saks – her first time – in which I got to watch her admire a dress, find the price tag, and gape. Sticker Shock is always a fun game to play.
Dinner, a bit of a stroll, and then to the Aronoff, where the real purpose of the trip awaited – a touring production of The Drowsy Chaperone.  I had been so glad to see it was on tour, because my dad had seen it in New York, and raved.
It’s a delightful show – all the more so if you are a devotee of musicals, and particularly if you are familiar with the conventions of both stage and film of the 20’s and 30’s.
In the darkened theater, we hear a voice – a man’s voice which informs us that every time he goes to the theater, he says a prayer. The prayer involves begging God to make it short and keep the actors out of the audience, among other things.
The voice belongs to the Man in the Chair – our guide to the evening. We are in his shabby apartment, cluttered and festooned with memorabilia. He tells us that he loves old musicals and all the more so for when he is feeling a bit down, and then a bit anxious about feeling down – in short, when he is feeling – blue. 
His favorite is a 1928 show, The Drowsy Chaperone, which he then proceeds to play for us on his record player (yes), while, of course, the show comes to life in his apartment, as he narrates, gives us the scoop on the highs and lows of the actors in the original production, tells us frankly what he doesn’t like, gives a running commentary on the shortcomings of contemporary theater, and in the end, rather poignantly, lets us see how much this silly, ridiculous show moves him.
This last point turns on a number which he sternly warns us, before it starts, is rather silly. Well, the music is wonderful, but, “Don’t listen to the lyrics.” They’re ridiculous, they’re about a monkey on a pedestal. Don’t listen to the lyrics, we’re told. Oh, it’s so bad, he has to go get a drink – but before we know it – and perhaps before he really does either, he is swept up in the ridiculous, nonsensical moment – he can’t help himself.
They’re all there – the heroine determined to leave the stage for marriage. The rather witless fiance and his wisecracking best friend. The perpetually outraged producer whom the heroine is leaving in the lurch, the chorister who aspires to take the heroine’s place, the foreign lothario somehow corralled in to break up the wedding, the gangsters disguised as pastry chefs, the ditzy rich woman (Georgia Engel) in whose home the wedding is inexplicably being held, her butler (whom Katie correctly said, in answer to my quiz, would be played by Edward Everett Horton in the movies), and, of course, the Drowsy Chaperone.
The last (and only other) show I’ve seen here was A Light in the Piazza which was wonderful, wonderful, but was visually pretty simple. This had loads of costume changes and set changes, all well done. My dad wondered if they could reproduce the Broadway production – I don’t know if they did or not, but I’m thinking it came close – airplane and all.
A very entertaining piece – and subtley moving, as well – for all of us who have spent some portion of our own lives in our own chairs, listening and dreaming along.