Day 94 - Attend the Opera

Date: April 10th, 2010

When I was 16, I spent almost an entire year lying to my parents about mundane things just to see if I could get away with it.  That was not among the smartest decisions I ever made.  That being said, when I got caught (which is another story for another day), I was summarily sentenced to a good six months without the various forms of entertainment I'd grown accustomed to.  My bedroom, which was a teenager's dream before, would no longer house a television set, phone, light near the bed for reading, or access to the internet.  They left the computer and printer for homework reasons (because being a nerd, I'd managed to evade them for a year without letting my grades suffer).

So, for six months I had one and only one activity.  Minesweeper.  I played it for about three hours a night and boy did I get good at it.  I'm not as well versed as I once was, but my best scores are pretty much the stuff of legend.  I beat beginner in 2 seconds (we all know that's a fluke), intermediate in 21 seconds (half fluke, half skill), and expert in 66 seconds (all skill, baby).  I used to be pretty high maintenance about what I needed to amuse myself.  It took a lot to keep me from getting bored.  After six months of three hours of Minesweeper a night... I'm pretty easy to keep entertained.

Despite knowing that I can amuse myself with bubble wrap and a can of pop, I skipped the opera on the assumption that it would bore me to tears.  The last time I even heard about the opera before actually going was on Home Improvement where Tim 'The Tool Man' Taylor was telling the world what hideous torture it was.  Why I took advice on culture from the man who perfected the stage grunt, I'm not entirely sure.  I mean, he's not exactly a role model.

When this project started, back in January, I stumbled onto the Detroit Opera House's website and figured it was time to prove the Tool Man right or wrong once and for all.  I bought two tickets to Don Giovanni for the first show I saw on the calendar and then called my friend Ryan to see if he'd like to escort me to the opera.

My date

It wasn't until we got to the show that we realized I'd gotten tickets to the opening night of the opening show of the spring season.  Thanks for filling me in, Ticketmaster.  Luckily, he'd called to ask about appropriate dress code before we got going and I ended up deciding there was too much dust building up on the one formal dress I own.  I don't usually wear it because, well...

It likes to attack things with glitter.

Walking into the opera house was an absolutely breathtaking experience.  Everyone was in formal or semi-formal dress, the architecture was delicate and antique and there was an air of 19th century mystique to the whole place.  It felt a little like being on the Titanic, except that the Detroit Opera House is actually unsinkable.  Too soon?

 Ahh, Mr. Fabergé, I'm a fan of your eggs.

Though I was in awe of the beauty of our surroundings, I wasn't particularly surprised by them.  The opera is one of the last vestiges of a more formal time.  It was, to me, completely reasonable that everyone would be dressed nicely, the ushers would have perfectly pressed uniforms, the building would be beautiful and the show would be tasteful and elegant.  Wait.  Scratch that last part.  The opera we saw was Don Giovanni.  There is nothing classy about Don Giovanni; and I mean that in the best possible way.
 

Before the show, I got the idea of opera confused with the ideas behind Pride and Prejudice and other turn-of-the-century exercises in bored civility.  I don't know about you, but I have no urge to hear the ghastly rumors told about Madam Ellouise at her cousin's cotillion.  Its just not my scene.  Its not Don Giovanni's scene either.  Turns out, the opera is about a lascivious bastard getting his comeuppance.

Going to the opera was the first time in my life that I felt utterly surrounded by high society.  I walked around in my nice-ish dress with my wonderful friend in his Sunday best and marveled at the things around me.  There were soldiers in dress blues, women in exquisite jewelry and people carrying those adorable little opera glasses around their necks.  It was the kind of glamorous scene you would expect in a scene from a movie.  And as I looked around in disbelief at the beauty of my surroundings, I remembered what Ryan told me before we got to the building.  He'd never seen a premiere before.

The opera was amazing - brilliant sung and played perfectly - but what made it such a wonderful night was getting to share the timeless beauty of the Opera House with a friend who'd never seen it before.  It felt good to collaterally open a door for someone while I walked through it myself.  Besides, Don Giovanni has great advice for couples.  Like, if a hot nobleman almost seduces you, beg your fiance to smack you around a little - if he doesn't do it then he's a keeper.  Words to live by.