“I’m hoping you can help,” I say with a smile to the man behind the ticket window at the Chicago Opera House. “I’m working on this Flat Stanley project for a friend of mine in Florida…”
“If you’d get to your question I could help you,” he snapped.
“I need to take a picture of Flat Stanley on the stage.”
“I don’t have keys to the auditorium. Go to the administrative offices on the fourth floor of this building.”
Again with the snapping, this guy. Then he turned away.
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The crowds are thick outside the Opera House on matinee days.
It’s either quaint or frustrating, depending on my mood.
When I’m not in a hurry it’s quaint – all these fragile old folks doddering around out front, talking softly and waiting for the tour buses to take them home.
And by fragile and old, we’re talking 70+. The lot of ‘em.
You won’t find an aging baby boomer in the bunch. I imagine they’re off doing everything those sixties-hip financial planning commercials say they’re doing – seeing the world and spending their kids’ inheritances while listening to Led Zeppelin or the Grateful Dead.
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Two weeks ago it was different.
High school kids – told to dress up so they wore jeans without holes – milling around outside the Opera House, looking just as out of place as the old folks on the busy streets of the Loop after lunch.
I’ve never seen a more miserable bunch.
You could just tell they’d much rather be sitting in algebra learning about Pythagoras or whoever that dude was who figured out that neat triangle thingy. Or something.
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I’ve never been to the opera. But I was thinking about getting tickets to see La Boheme in the fall. I’ve always wanted to see it because of Moonstruck, one of my all time favorite movies.
You want to see an opera because of a movie?
Yes.
Hey, if you want culture, listen to NPR.
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The guy at the ticket counter was obviously having a bad day.
Or maybe he’s always rude. Some people are just like that.
But most of the time it’s because somebody did something unfair or irritating to them, so they pass it along to the next person.
When all those aging opera fans die off in 10 to 15 years, this guy’s gonna be out of a job.
And I’m guessing he’ll be wishing for the days when he could be rude to people at that ticket counter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: Scrubs soundtrack
I am reading: A list of benefits for the careers section of the web site
And I am: Indignant
3 weeks ago
2 comments:
I’ve never been to the opera.
Go...you won't regret it. I was raised on opera by true opera lovers, and though I don't have the affinity for it that my parents do (more of a symphonic music fan), I still enjoy good opera and try to go once or twice a year.
Another great opportunity... The Metropolitan Opera is doing simulcasts of their performances at theaters all around the nation, and it's actually very cool. Not to mention a fraction of the cost of a full live production.
I've been to the opera four or five times, all of them back when I was in college. I had another agenda as I was dating the second seat oboe player.
Didn't really like it, which is a bit strange because I love the symphony. I can't get past the word that springs to my mind "caterwauling." The voices get in the way of my enjoyment.
This makes no sense to me as I love blues and jazz, where I think the voice adds to the music.
To expand on a post from earlier this month, there is no finer thing in life than getting up on Sunday morning, making coffee, opening the paper, turning on the radio to, well, it varies among classical, blues, jazz, big band, and NPR's whatever it's called on Sunday morning news show, just no Metropolitan, which here comes on on Saturday afternoon.
When the paper is done and it's time to move on to things like shopping, I always have a bit of a let down. Sorry Kvatch, but, I'd agree that since Hedy hasm't been, she/you Hedy should try it, especially live. But do it at night and gussy up. There is a spectacle to behold.
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