Next week at this time, I’ll be at Tanglewood. Contrary to what the marketing folks at Disney want you to believe, Tanglewood actually is the most magical place on earth.
By all accounts I should hate Tanglewood. Bugs freak me out, I have terrible allergies, being hot makes me irritable, and mosquito bites send me to the doctor’s (cf. aforementioned allergies). And let’s face it, white concert attire just isn’t as flattering as black. Yet year after year I count down the days until John and I head to Tanglewood, armed with OFF! and a wardrobe that covers 45 to 105 degrees Fahrenheit.
It’s hard to describe what’s so awesome about Tanglewood. Part of it is that we get to see our fellow chorus friends for several days in a row, instead of a few hours every month or two. Part of it is that our meal stipend, which one could save, in theory, is spent like play money on long dinners full of camaraderie and laughter. But mostly I think it’s that we’ve left our homes and jobs behind for our collective love of music and the magical experience that is Tanglewood.
A while back, a 30+ year member of the TFC wrote a touching email about watching his children walk across the Tanglewood lawn, first as toddlers and now as adults with kids of their own. I hope someday I’ll do the same.