Many years ago I bought a single ticket to a performance of the Saskatoon Symphony Orchestra. The guest artist was a native American flute player, and I really wanted to go. So much so that when Mike impolitely politely declined to accompany me I decided to go by myself. I wanted to go so much that I was really pissed off when I read the paper one morning and saw a review of the concert that had happened the night before. I had completely forgotten about it. I always assumed that I had learned my lesson about checking schedules and so forth until this afternoon.
Mike and I are in New York, having survived our Bermuda cruise. In an uncharacteristic fit of flying-by-the-seat-of-our-pants, we had no firm plans for anything while we were here. Except one thing- we had tickets for a taping of the David Letterman show tomorrow evening. I pulled up the details on my computer about three quarters of an hour ago (6 pm Monday) to find that our tickets were for tonight’s show, which is taping even as I write this. I choose to think the glass is half full: Now we have a free afternoon and evening tomorrow.