Tall trees, rolling hills, a pond, a boathouse, a dock and an art exhibit— a scene out of a Hollywood movie.
A travelling play, on a porch of a mansion in Canton, with two young actors — a page out of a romantic novel.
Neither the persistent mosquitos, nor the patchy drizzle could impede guests' enjoyment. The hosts were inconspicuous, patrons of art? Benevolent? Certainly not pretentious! Every lawn chair they had brought out, every umbrella they had passed out had genuine 'old money' written all over it!
Seated on a wooden bench, in the third row, I enjoyed every sip of my five-dollar Pinot Grigio and every word of David French's play. Although, a couple of times, my internal monologue interfered with the actors' dialogue. "How so gauche of you to ask for your change!" I reproached myself. But then, I thought, if I want to tag along with my new friends to all these fantastic fundraisers, well dressed and manicured, able to buy not one, but two glasses of wine, I better have the guts to ask for my five-dollar change!
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