Coming Home: Musings on Moth Mainstage

Like one long-time member who I spoke with at the party, I started attending events here with my parents. She has been a regular at the Music Hall for twenty-five years and now attends up to three events in a week. As we kept chatting, she gave me a wry look and said “Oh so you remember the old seats?” I certainly do. The old seats were, well, hard as rocks. She then told me that, despite how foolish they might appear, she and her mother used to carry in their own soft, and sizable pillows. Very smart and, luckily, no longer an issue.

With that story to spur my thoughts, I leaned on the bar and took a look around the room. Iʼve been away from the area for seven years, and the Music Hall has grown so much in all capacities, that I felt like a new-comer. The lobby of the Loft was packed with people standing and enjoying a drink—a few groups were seated at the high-tops in the windows. The story-tellers from the show were receiving many compliments, and the din of conversation rose high into the late night. Making my way through the crowd, I was happy to bump into some first-timers at the Music Hall—a couple who knew someone in the show and drove up from Massachusetts to catch it. We marveled at the beauty of the theater, how great it was to have an after party, and how eager they were for their next visit. Yes, exactly I thought, as am I.