the nutcracker experience

i read a blog post yesterday about a woman taking her daughters to see the nutcracker at lincoln center. oh it took me back. all of those christmases with the nutcracker.

getting dressed up and pulling the nice winter coats/capes out of the hall closet. taking the lincoln tunnel in and watching the tile whip by, waiting for the colorful divider that announced the state border. bouncing around in a car stuck in slo-o-o-o-w new york city traffic. diving into the parking garage and climbing back up into the crisp night. the fountain. the packed lobby full of fur and suits. the bright gold, the bronze, the cream marble…the last glimpse of sleek and shiny before entering the giant cave of hushed red velvet.

binoculars for everyone. butter rum lifesavers. bouncy seats that would push up my knees if i sat too far back. like i ever did. that round ball of lights glittering above.  find the cellos in the orchestra. watch the curtains rise and fade into the most beautiful house i’ve ever seen. the dancing. the scary old guy. the scary tree. then the real dancing. feats so amazing that we posed for pictures with the snowflakes/celebrities during intermission.

the long line in the bathroom. running around each lobby ring to release childish energy. going back into the cave for the best part. i loved mother ginger and hated marzipan. why do those kids want to leave candy land, especially after that show? clapping until my hands stung because the curtain kept going up and down.

back in the lobby, holding on to mama’s fur so i wouldn’t get lost in the (c)rush at the doors. pennies for the fountain. yelling tchaikovsky in the garage until it echoed. curling up in cold leather seats, too tired to wait for the new jersey tiles.

i love that we have this family tradition and that we’ll see the nutcracker this year in philadephia. except this time alex will be dancing on stage, instead of next to me in the aisle.