From the comfort of his home, Randy conveys what it was like sitting in his squishy, uncomfortable seat at the concert. 

By Laurie Stone

Don’t you hate when you try and do something nice, but it takes a dicey turn? This happened when I bought two tickets for my husband Randy and me to see “The Monterey Jazz Festival on Tour” at our local music venue. It wasn’t our usual fare, but everything at this theater is good, so we thought what the heck. We got to the concert, gave our tickets, arrived at our seats to find a big problem.

My husband is very tall with arthritic knees and doesn’t fold easily into theater chairs. I had spent time online to make sure I had selected the perfect seat for him with lots of legroom. That meant sitting in the very front row, I figured, in front of the stage, where he could easily put out his legs and be comfortable.

A Tight Fit

Except there wasn’t enough room. To my horror, the seats were right before the solid wall of the stage. Any other seat, where he could tuck his feet under the chair in front, would’ve been better. Sitting on the aisle, poor Randy had to completely extend his long legs to the left while simultaneously twisting his torso, neck and head to the right to see the show.

Frustratingly, across the way sat the perfect chair with nothing in front of it. The one beside it was also empty. Like an oasis in the desert, we kept watching these seats hopefully, as people took their places before the show. We also knew there was no intermission.

Finally, the curtain came up. The Monterey Jazz Festival performers came out, four musicians and two singers, full of raucous scatting, bebop tunes, roaring sax, tinkling piano, beat-keeping drums and plunking upright bass. All the while, Randy and I kept watching the seats across the aisle, which no one claimed.

Any other time, Randy would’ve loved this fun, high-energy act, but he wasn’t content or comfortable. And that’s when you realize in marriage, your partner’s happiness (or unhappiness) is yours too. Watching Randy’s pain and unease, kept me from enjoying the show as well. While the six Monterey Jazz musicians played to a full, enthused house, Randy and I sat there, miserable.

What To Do

Although the seats across the aisle remained tantalizingly empty, we knew switching quickly and gracefully could be tricky. We were right in front, hundreds of people behind us who would see every move. As the performers spoke and entertained the crowd onstage, we didn’t want to distract them. Even worse was the thought that if we grabbed those cherished seats, their rightful owners might show up late and we’d be kicked out in front of the entire audience.

But one thing I’ve learned about my husband of 43 years: Randy is not a man easily discouraged. Partway through the show, he took a chance. During a loud lull with lots of applause and distraction onstage, he stood stiffly and hurried, as best he could, to the seat across the way. I quickly grabbed my purse and followed. An elderly gentleman behind the new seats had put his straw hat on my chair and quickly whisked it away before I sat on it. He smiled. “Sorry,” I whispered.

Happy Ending

I took a deep breath as Randy settled in, fully facing the stage, his legs finally comfortable. I snuggled close, happy and relieved, as we watched the rest of the show.

It turned into a good night, after all. Disaster had been averted. My husband was now happy. And so was I.

Laurie Stone writes from the woods of Easton, Conn. Her blog, “Musings, Rants &Scribbles,” shares thoughts on growing up, older and (hopefully) wiser. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.