I May Not Be With the Program...

... but I'm IN the program.

I went to a performance last week, which was organized by an old friend of mine. He occasionally has fundraisers to support his work, and I've always tried to donate money. This year, I contributed $50. So when I saw the show and flipped through the program, there was my name, listed in the lowest rung of contributors. I wasn't expecting to see that at all, and it suddenly made me feel quite weird. I think it may have been the first time I ever saw myself listed in a program as a donor.

Those lists in the backs of programs are always funny. When I was a kid going to the ballet or symphony with my parents, I'd always read the lists of names, mainly because I was the kind of voracious reader who couldn't not read in an idle moment and would read the cereal box at breakfast if necessary. But it also kind of interested me, as I got older, to know that there were these rich people who supported the arts. As an adult, I became more aware of who those names might be-- well-known business executives, perhaps, or members of wealthy families. I'd look at the lists wondering if executives in my own industry might be contributors, or looking for the names of my old college classmates who might be rich and/or successful today.

The lists always have various tiers-- "friend," "benefactor," "donor," "angel," and such. If I saw names I recognized, I couldn't help noticing which level they were in and how much money they gave. I suppose for many people, donating to arts organizations is done with this sort of thing in mind-- showing everyone how benevolent you are, showing everyone your taste and passion for the arts, and showing everyone how much money you've got. Of course there are always a few "anonymous" donors listed, but most people are named.

When I donated to my friend's organization, it didn't cross my mind that there would be a listing in a program. And it was a very short listing. I couldn't help thinking, geez, I sent 50 bucks and yet I'm one of only a dozen or so donors total, at all the levels! I guess I also saw it as crossing some kind of line in my life-- in my younger days, my name was in programs because I helped paint the sets, or design the poster, or handle props and push furniture around. I was a part of the show as a creative person, not just that person once removed who throws some money at it. Some of the other donors were people I knew were also creatively involved with my friend's work, so it's not like there's always a hard line between those who "do" and those who pay. But it was funny to think that in some way, I'm working at my not-that-interesting office job so my friend, whose creative work seems to pay his bills, doesn't have to.
Such is life, I guess. And I have to say, I was thrilled for my friend and thought his performance was amazing. I haven't been able to get it out of my head for days, and experiencing that kind of art is certainly worth $50 or more. In fact, he just sent out another fundraising email and I contributed another $50. If he does another show, I'll buy tickets and if he sends out another email, I'll donate again. Maybe I'll even make it to the next tier in the program!

Happy Valentine's Day

I can't believe it's February 14th already! I just ran out at lunch to buy a card for Sweetie, and was happy to find a good one for under $3 after thinking I might have to spend $7!
Sweetie and I both liked this article from the NY Times this past weekend: When Love Outgrows Gifts on Valentine's Day, and were agreeing with the philosophy of only giving gifts when you feel inspired to do so, rather than out of obligation on certain holidays. Yet after talking about it, I blurted out "we're not exchanging gifts for Valentine's Day, are we?" There's always that little doubt, that one person will do something when the other least expects it! But a card always seems nice. I just wish I'd gotten my act together in time to make one instead of buying one. Oh well, there's always next year!