Joining

When you live in the suburbs it seems to be expected that you'll "join" things. I've pretty much done it all - from the League of Women Voters, the Junior League, the Women's Club, the Garden Club. And that's just for starters. And then there are all those "boards".

Trouble is, I don't seem to have much staying power. Pretty soon it all comes down to this: phone calls and meetings. Meetings and phone calls. More meetings. More phone calls. I hate meetings. And I hate phone calls. And so, with guilt, I resign. I see friends and acquaintances less often, and I regret that. But that's the way it is.

But there's another kind of joining. I decided, recently, to join the Met. That's the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It's the one with the richest holdings by far - the one you can never see even a fraction of at any one time. And, on top of that, there are "special" exhibits that come and go in a flash. If I go there four times a year I'll have gotten my money's worth. My hope and expectation is that I'll go way more often than that.

I was going to go today, in fact, but it's raining now. Do I want to walk to the bus stop? It wouldn't kill me would it? But I went to the city yesterday and the day before. And I'm a little behind on things here on the home front. We'll see how it goes.