Attack of the 20-foot Wabbit

How does a toddler get to Symphony Hall?

Practice. Practice. Practice.

The TA visited Tanglewood to hear the BSO, but getting her into Symphony Hall was a personal best for this toddler-toting Papa.


I had a choice. Drop $85 to watch the TA squirm through fifteen notes of Mendelssohn and weather the whithering scowls of inveterate subscribers, or pack up the entire family for the 10th Annual WCRB Classic Cartoon Festival.

On a cool gray Saturday, over 4000 fans of Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, and Wile E. Coyote descend on Symphony Hall to benefit the Brain Injury Association of Massachusetts. The initial idea is to introduce kids to classical music, but it's also an excuse for adults and kids alike to laugh in the dark at some joyfully violent fare (all in the name of high culture, of course). For many people, Looney Tunes are their introduction to classical music. Who doesn't have the swirling whimsy of Carl Stalling hardwired to their childhood? That introduction may end there too, but I grew up in a house where Beethoven was as common as baseball. So for the TA, classical music is her introduction to Porky Pig.

But there's more! Face painting. Jugglers. Clowns. Magicians. The Bonne Bell Manicure Station. An "instrument petting zoo." A dunking tank for cranky BSO subscribers who hate Arnold Scheonberg (okay, I made that one up). Beyond the giddy pop culture of Bugs Bunny et al., there are instances of genuine high culture. The Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra’s Young People’s String Orchestra and the Handel & Haydn Youth Chorus are on stage as well.

Mama snapped this portrait of the TA's purple wontons and Dad's moccasins.
I have no idea what the person with the poor taste in footwear is doing in this family portrait.

For a while, it was all about the sonorous beauty
of classical music and the rich history of
Major Henry L. Higginson's Symphony Hall.
Until this guy showed up.
From that point, the entire focus of the day changed forever.

The TA stalks "Titty tat" through the corridors of Symphony Hall.
It was almost like something out of "Phantom of the Opera."
Almost.

We eventual cornered the the cat outside the door of Symphony Hall. I think he (she?) was trying to sneak a smoke, but apparently couldn't work it with those fuzzy paws. From the foyer, the TA shrieked when she saw him, so out the door we went. I almost died when it looked like Sylvester was going to remove his head (all I could see was years of therapy for the kid). But we cornered the cat (and Tweety!), and Mama snapped a priceless shot of the great toddling hunter in the arms of her prey on the steps of Symphony Hall.

I would share it, but you can clearly see someone inside Tweety's costume through the black screen of his nine-inch-high eyes. And and we all know, this blog is all about protecting Tweety's anonymity.

Go ahead. Say it.
"I thought I thaw a putty tat."

The TA runs free around the Reflecting Pool
of the Boston Christian Science Center.

On the way home, she snoozed to Brahms
(and Elliot Smith).