i bought a ticket to Satyagraha, at the Metropolitan Opera. only one. this was after the previous night spent wrestling with the metopera.org web site, trying to get it to let me buy something. for some reason it did not work. everything failed, it was not just a single attempted transaction. the seating chart application was bugged out, the shopping cart returned error messages, and other incredibly annoying things. it is so annoying when web sites do not work, but it may be something bugged out on my end, since i was able to do it all just fine from the desktop computer. all the bugginess was on the laptop. boo hoo.
in college there was a running joke among us self-consciously haughty and neo-snobbish musicians. the gag was “Can’t talk now, I’m OFF TO THE OPERA!” it made us all laugh because it sounded so pompous, so aloof and wannabe-above-it-all, when really most of us were prefectly down to earth — or at least we were for the first few years of being chewed up. this is before we were spit out. but that’s another matter. i just remembered that gag while choosing operas last night and today.
i might go all in for a set of tickets to Wagner’s Ring, but maybe not. that’s a real investmenet not so much of money but of time and commitment, and i am really not that big a Wagner acolyte. i’d be just as well seeing the DVDs.
i made a point of getting a seat on the aisle. i haven’t been to the Met in a long time, and i remember it as having decent air, but it’s an old dome so maybe the air went musty and stale in the passing years. i had no problems with the air at Radio City Music Hall. how long before i start carrying an oxygen tank and air mask around?
i’ve had far fewer breathing problems since exiting that 5-6 month relationship several weeks ago. i know that part of the trouble comes from anxiety or stress, but there’s also no doubt that the air itself contributes muchly. mustily much. mmmunchamunch.
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