Now that I’ve made a deal with my therapist not to drink alone, I leap at any opportunity to drink with others.
Yesterday a friend and I went to Ithaca’s First Friday Gallery Night, where all the downtown galleries were having opening receptions at the same time. A reception means food and drink. Drink often means wine or a happy punch. Voila!
I never used to drink or eat much on gallery night because I preferred to sit down to a nice meal and a glass of wine at home afterwards. The receptions are 5:30 to 8 pm, so it’s early enough to postpone dinner.
This time I started at the first gallery. An employee of Americana Vineyards was serving samples of their wines, and I tried the Pinot Grigio first, then a dry Riesling. Excellent.
My friend and I looked at the art, talked with the people we knew, and went on our way to the next gallery.
My friend had one small drink of the Americana wine and said that would be enough for her for the remainder of the evening. She’s not a drinker.
The next place we went to had once been a clothing store, but now empty, was turned into a “pop-up” gallery, with three floors of interesting art from several young artists. In the first exhibit room, on the table with the refreshments, I saw that the bottles of wine were already empty.
“I’m too late,” I thought. But on another floor there was more wine, and this bottle was not empty. I poured some for myself.
With my glass still half full, we walked down the main street of the Ithaca Commons. I was drinking slowly, making it last. Plus, I realized I needed to eat something to mitigate the effects of the wine. I don’t drink that much any more, so a little goes a long way.
Three policemen approached from the opposite direction.
“Hmmm, “ I wondered, “is it against the law to walk down the street with a glass of wine in your hand?”
But there were plenty of people on the commons that night and the officers didn’t even glance my way as I walked past them.
“Lots of students get arrested for that,” my daughter said later. “This isn’t New Orleans.”
In the next gallery, I looked for some food to eat, but it was mostly gone. I grabbed a few almonds and chewed on those. Then I noticed that even though they were low on food, they still had some wine left.
Meeting up later with my friend who had gone her own way for a while, I had another half-filled glass of wine in my hand. “I need to get rid of this,” I said.
“Yes, I think you’ve had enough,” she agreed.
Luckily there was food at the next exhibit. I grabbed a piece of French bread and gave it a dollop of hummus. Delicious.
It had been raining on and off all day, but the evening was fine. I’d never felt better walking up and down the streets of our little city.
We stopped at the contemporary furniture store next, as even they were having a reception for the artists whose work played an accompaniment to the modern Danish furniture. Their walls were full of art, and we chatted with a young abstract artist whose work I hadn’t seen before.
They served very nice grapes and some lovely fancy cookies.
No wine.
Just as well. I’d had enough.
And then for our last stop, we went to the DeWitt Mall building. My friend and I split up again, as she didn’t want to see the same exhibit that I did. It was a very small exhibit space in an Oriental rug and furniture store, but the artist’s colorful abstract paintings looked stunning there.
Before I had a chance to sit and chat with the artist, I was offered a glass of champagne.
Now if you know me at all, you know I can’t turn down a glass of champagne. And I didn’t.
I don’t remember a gallery night that’s been half as much fun as this one.
