While sitting in the back rows of the Samford University theater (I could look up the actual name of the building, but let’s just say that it’s a Baptist building in which dancing sometimes takes place), watching the Alabama Ballet perform Giselle, I was struck by both a sudden need for a cigarette, and the amazing parallels between the ballet and my life today.

Both are beautiful at times (mostly when you least expect it), boring other times, and really painful when you’ve stayed still too long and your hip audibly pops.

Neither one makes a whole lot of sense, even if the background music is familiar.  Unfortunately, there is no program for my life, so I don’t get any clarification on that one.

Both are filled with a long line of beautiful women.  And out of both batches, there are only a few whose names and faces remain in my memory for more than about 24 hours.

I don’t dress up for the ballet, either.