A few weeks ago I was invited to an event by the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, but we had to pass due to somebody being cantankerous. Not only did I miss a chance to see the symphony for free, but I also missed St. Louis Bloggers Night at SLSO. No schmoozing and such for me. However, the kind folks at SLSO were kind enough to offer me a rain check.

As much of a music geek as I am, I’ve only seen a live orchestra once. It was a rather brief performance when I lived in Columbia, Missouri and I can’t say I remember much about it. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. When Eddie at the symphony told me I had my pick of any orchestral events, I wasn’t sure what that meant.

That said, it seemed like a wise idea to start with something from the family series. For one thing, it’s kid-friendly, thus eliminating the need for a babysitter for the babysitter-phobic kid. Plus, my particular kid is obsessed with music. Most recently, tubas. Yesterday Brian took her to B&G Music to pick up his repaired bass. While there, Clara Jane inquired about “tuba-playing lessons”. I’ve sworn to be encouraging of whatever this kid wants to do but the fact is, she’s about half the size of a tuba, a fact which wasn’t missed by the music store staff. They informed her that a tuba would knock her over. Perhaps she should consider the sousaphone. When she’s over five feet tall. Or drums! Drums are awesome! And not at all deafening when played by a little kid!

Anyway, this isn’t about how glad I am that we have a detached garage for when Clara Jane starts drum lessons in a few months. This is about the family series at SLSO.

Another reason to opt for a show from the family series as opposed to, um, some other performance I don’t understand: Brian and I are clueless. We know where the symphony hall is located, and that’s about it. It’s in the Grand Center arts district. I haven’t been to a performance there since 2005, when I saw the White Stripes at the Fox Theater. That was a pretty civilized night. It was the only White Stripes show I’ve seen in St. Louis in which I was not required to shove someone in the face for touching me.

Which brings me to the reason why we’ve never attended a performance by the SLSO: pure intimidation and ignorance. Brian and I are classless enough to get flustered over what to wear to such a thing. We tend to give up in favor of drinking Stag in the basement while watching reruns of “The Golden Girls” before we can even consider how to best experience an orchestra on a musical level.

Don’t lie. I know plenty of you feel the same way.

The family series says, “come as you are”. Having a feeling that didn’t include Stag-stained sweatpants, I instructed Brian to dress like he’s going to work (business casual). I put myself in dark jeans, high-heeled black Mary Janes, and a swingy black tunic with an even swingier cropped tweed jacket that’s been hanging in the closet with the tags on it for a year because I had no where to wear it.

Clara Jane, who received a pair of cowgirl boots from my grandmother a few days ago, insisted on wearing them, along with a horseshoe necklace. That’s the thing with being four – you can pretty much get away with wearing rodeo gear anywhere you go.

We had nothing to worry about. Despite the fact that the first person I saw at the symphony hall was decked in head-to-toe dead animal, most of the crowd was pretty casual. How could it not be, with the number of kids her age running amok?

A pleasant surprise when I went to the box office for our free tickets: we’d been given three box seats. Awesome, but I’m a little concerned that it’s spoiled me.

We arrived a few minutes late, and had to wait outside the theater door for the first piece to end. There was a woman and little girl waiting ahead of us, and the girls quickly became friends. I’m thinking the orchestra isn’t much different than the rock shows I’m used to attending: how many of my friends did I meet in lines at shows? A lot. The girls mashed their ears to the door, nose-to-nose, listening to the performance.

I think that’s how I met Maggie during sound check at one of last spring’s Wilco shows.

Turns out, Clara Jane’s new friend was seated in the same box as us. Since there were a few empty seats, Clara Jane abandoned us the second the little girl invited her to share seats across the aisle from us. We could watch her through the performance and let her enjoy live music the way it should be enjoyed: with a friend. They spent a good chunk of the show holding hands.

If you have kids and know little about classical music, I highly recommend hitting one of these family performances under the guise of exposing your kids to some culture. It’s a sneaky, fun way to get a little education in how to listen to a performance. The conductor, Courtney Lewis, is a mere 24 years old. Thoroughly engaging, he starts the performance by walking the audience through the different parts of the piece, telling us what the sounds mean to the story being told. Then the orchestra plays the piece in its entirety. Obviously, he did a much better job of explaining sound visualization than I do. He made it interesting and fun. I’m making it confusing and dull.  Believe me when I say that I came out a little smarter than I went in, even if it’s not currently showing.

Clara Jane spent most of the performance slack-jawed and enraptured. Any mention that she’s too small to play tuba has been forgotten because she has seen the Promised Land, and it has a tuba.

After the performance, we went to the stage with the woman and little girl who’d sat with us. The woman works for SLSO, and invited Clara Jane onto the stage to check out the percussion section.

Kettle drums. I see kettle drums in the future of my home. But I’m cool with that. I loved having this opportunity for Clara Jane to get a first-hand glimpse at one of the ways people can make a living playing music. She loved it, and guess what. So did Brian and I.

In unrelated news, that’s it for NaBloPoMo ‘08! Holidailies begins on December 5th and yes, for the third year in a row, I’ll be doing both. After taking a little break, of course.