Tailgating at the Opera (Well Sort of)©

Greetings Hairballers,

Now that Live at the Met has come to our theaters, I've been having an opera glut.  Hope you enjoy my observations.

Tailgating at the Opera (Well Sort of)©

         FMHorner

we opera aficionados, here

in Frog Crossing, Florida,

could make fans in a football parking lot

shake their heads in wonder—

amateurs

bel canto has come to the outback.

no longer doomed to

hearing someone bellow off key

at St. Kiwanis’s Church of the Deprived,

we’re in the big leagues now

well, sort of

live from the Met

in HD at a theater near you—

where the best of the best

sing Verdi, Wagner and all those guys

it doesn’t get any better

well, sort of

in contrast to our smartly dressed and

well-behaved brethren,

we consider opera sport,

and show up wearing shorts and jeans,

sandals and boat shoes,

tee shirts that say

no parking here,

well aged is better, and

Tire Kingdom—

that’s the guy who hasn’t done his laundry

and unlike Yankee Stadium,

where vendors roam the aisles

yelling

getcha cold beer here,

we must fend for ourselves

ticket holders arrive with coolers

containing beverages, banned or not,

and purses bulging with sandwiches,

these gigs are long and ya gotta eat,

thus far, no one has tried to fire up a grill.

Side note:  Please Great Spirit, let me be there if that happens.

to secure seats, we arrive hours early,

draping articles of clothing over the chairs.

woe to anyone who tries

to impose their derriere on

a place we’ve saved for a friend

“don’t sit on that sweater, you idiot,

there’s a custard pie in the pocket

and a stool sample

I have to take to the doctor

if this show ever ends,” we shout

we’ve dusted off our books of libretti,

gone to the deli and the 7-Eleven,

now totally prepared,

we’re up to the challenge

for culture has arrived

well, sort of

Vissi d’arte