Wednesday night free, and I'm off to the Opera. I've called the boy, a couple of times, he's invited, reward of sorts for having just read the book, finally at 6:00 PM I reach him, he's stranded somewhere in the SW, late rehearsal at school, we'll meet at Westhills Ciniplex.
Hurry - Jacket, Shoes, jeans will suffice, must hurry, rush hour is over. To the car, drive, traffic, red-light stop. Green light go, merge left, red-light stop. Green light go, turn left, red-light stop. Green light go, merge left, go, go, go, red-light stop. Green-light go. Red light stop. Left, left, left, 6:40 circling the ciniplex and the boys not there, circling, late, I'm late, I'm late, check time, boy running panting after car....
"You drove right past me...."
- "We're late...."
"I haven't eaten dinner...."
- "After the show...."
Skip the major thoroughfares, take the back-roads. We're late, Ciniplex to 14 St, the North to the Jube. 7:00. Whew. We're on time. Turn into the traffic line-up for the parkade and we're very shortly late again, give the boy the card - tell him to get us 2 tickets, best available, live-rush tickets, we're both alive and in a rush. Now wait to park.
Stop. Go 10 feet. Stop. Go 10 feet. Stop. Go 10 feet. Stop. Go 10 feet. Stop. Pedestrians crossing. Go. Stop. Go 10 feet. Stop. Go 10 feet. Stop. Pay attendant, cash only (I have cash, whew...), go 10 feet. 20 feet, circle parkade, find parking. 7:22.
Into the Jube, they're checking tickets at the parkade entry, I have no tickets, looking for the boy, looking for the boy, escorted to ticket line, where is the boy? Where is the boy? There he is....
"You need a live rush card to buy rush tickets...."
ANNOUNCEMENT: "The show will begin in 5 minutes. Please take your seats...."
SHIT. Wait in line, wait in line, wait in line, bad feeling as we get closer and closer to ticket kiosk. Whatever happens there won't be time to hit the bar. I need to hit the bar.
"Do you take debit?" - "no....machine over there..."
Jump velvet rope, cash machine, cash, back to line, buy tickets, wait, wait, finding seats, pay, finding change, wait, tickets printing, ....
And we're off. The last ones in the theatre. The boy notices as we jog down the corridor - "It's 3 hours long...."
****
Intermission. Now this is what we've paid for. Double scotch - "We don't have double's pricing...." - "I don't care, give me a double - boy? And a mineral water...." Time now to hob-nob with the hoi polloi.
And we stroll about. This is the Opera. 30 minutes of checking out the audience, what they're wearing, the glittering young sausage stuffed lycra stockings, tieras, fancy dress, the boy recognizes a couple from his school, I recognize a few customers (but unless accosted don't speak to them, waiters can be snobs too....), I need another scotch but will have to drive in an hour, does it count as impaired driving if I let the boy drive? He's got his learners....I'll skip the scotch.
****
Back to the Opera.
****
Exit the Opera. Review of the Opera. Now, great visuals, sets, effects, and surely a large number of people were involved with this, a chorus of 50, roughly 10 principal leads, the story of Moby Dick told through singing and textual interpretations on the top of the screen - because most people (myself included) didn't understand what the fuck they were saying. Very little by way of acting, rather conventional opportunities scripted in for solos, duets, obligatory dance scenes, the music - recognized phrases from the Photographer, (Philip Glass) as well as Akhenaten, on it's own - a full symphony, but not a single memorable tune. Memorable visuals, yes, but that's it.
And the Libretti - all modern, spoken thoughts, words, no rhyming - how easy is this? Shit, It's as if someone got up on stage, forgot both the lyrics and the melody and made it all up off the top of their head. Think Dori speaking Whalish in "Finding Nemo".
Now I haven't seen enough operas to know if this is what they all do - they don't, I'm pretty sure, some have melodies or more "musical" bits in them, some must have rhyme, but not this one.
So that's it.
Link: http://www.calgaryopera.com/2011-2012Season/mobydick/
****
To car, must escape parkade, stop, start, stop, start, stop, start, nightmare of traffic, find someplace to feed the boy. Despite my opinions on the whole affair he's impressed, that's good, it was an expensive night out. And on the way home, restaurant after restaurant is closed. It's Wednesday night after all. The boy assures me he's fine, he can forage in the fridge at home, but it's our big night out, I have to treat him, and finally we end up at Dominos, the only place open, where we order a couple of Donairs.
I thought they were donairs, it was an option written in red felt marker over top of the factory issued pizza order screen. In fact, they were Donair Pizzas, and so we have to sit down now to wait.
Reading material in Dominos, some free magazines, one that seems to cater to people who need to book conference spaces, there's the Banff Springs, the Convention Center in Edmonton, so many luxurious choices, who in the hell comes into Dominoes looking to book conference space? Bloody hell, they should be advertising local crack-houses. And the real estate magazines, boring, crooked looking realtors with big smiles welcoming you into a lifetime of debt, other preposterous lifestyle management magazines that seem strangely out of place in the take-away pizza joint.
Pizza is ready and we're done. Drive boy home, myself, so finishes a night at the Opera.