Report from the trenches

The times we live in: it took two hours to fly from Portland to L.A. It took two hours to maneuver through the L.A. airport, rent a car, and drive to our motel. The space/time model of our age.

A delightful Saturday (almost -- see below) spending time with ourselves. Had an early dinner at Canter's, the marvellous Jewish deli on Fairfax, then went to see the surrealism exhibit at the nearby county museum. Interesting historically but neither of us were blown away by any art. I don't respond to art that tries too hard to be meaningful, clever, political, or whatever. I belong to the Cocteau school of art, which says the artist should disappear in his work, that form should not draw attention to itself. The artist as magician, not letting anyone see how the trick is done.

The evening ended with its own surrealistic adventure. I won't describe the details because my wife might divorce me if I did. I'll only say that she did something that later even she couldn't believe she had done, something stupid, unnecessary, and absolutely strange. Explained by old age more than anything else, I think, which is a good lesson, since H is one of those folks who likes to think she isn't getting older. Maybe she'll start listening better to her own biology.

Today, of course, is the big day! We pick up my friend Lynne early and the three of us will find a leisurely brunch somewhere. I want to get to the opera house early enough to snap some photos, then there's a pre-show lecture at 1 we all want to hear -- or maybe only I want to hear and the others are captive since I'm holding the tickets ha ha. Then the show. Then to good mutual friends, who also happen to be Lynne's aunt and uncle, for dinner (I met Lynne when she was about 8! -- hence the great scandal twenty-plus years ago when we became lovers. Very cool that we remained tight friends afterward.)

Monday we plan to have breakfast with a friend of H's, then hang out in Venice for the day before going to the airport late afternoon. Tuesday will be a rough day, school things to catch up on before class.

From what I've read about the opera production, I think I'll love the singing but not be too crazy for the directing. It sounds, from what I've read, like it's over-directed to my tastes, again the director trying too hard to make the material "contemporary." Any dodo can understand that greed is universal for all times. Or maybe not.