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Susan worries that in addition to Flo’s monthly Concord Park bills, there will be a nine hundred dollar companion fee to pay for my new found attachment to the place.

I joined Flo for a classical piano recital in the great room to the left of the main doors. Rick Scalise plays once a month, and Sunday he featured Mozart, Beethoven, and Strauss. There were twenty-two folks in his audience; I counted six asleep. Or I thought they were asleep, except that at the end of each song, eyes would open and hands would clap. Thinking they might be onto something, I too closed my eyes. That made seven of us with our chins on our chest.

I was ecstatic to be sitting so close to the performer, but there is one drawback to this venue. The sleepers are counter balanced by the talkers. Behind where Flo and I sat were two women who could have been hollering over the crowd noise at a Celtics’ game. This bothered me some, but it really irritated the dark haired woman sitting in front of us. The one Flo refers to as, “The Busy body.”

The Busy Body’s evil eye stares were completely ineffective. And there were many. Finally, she stood up in the middle of a Strauss Waltz, marched over to the talkers and with forefinger extended said, “You better SHUT-UP!”

As she walked back to her chair, in voices loud enough to be heard outside of the Fleet Center:

“What did she say?”

“I think she said to be quiet.”

“The nerve.”

“She must be related to the piano player.”

Concord Park – rear view.
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Tomorrow: More duck tales