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Sunday, September 12, 2010

San Francisco...A Night @ the Opera! How I gate-crashed!








On the heels of the San Francisco Symphony's splashy opening night each fall, the annual kick-off for the San Francisco Opera House season is the hottest ticket in town come September.

Just ask any of the tony elite who sashayed down to the staid San Francisco War Memorial Opera House on Friday night to catch the dazzling opening night performance of AIDA.

Faces lit up, and jewels sparkled, as chi-chi patrons of the arts mixed and mingled to beat the band!

Verdi must have been proud as he gazed down from the heavens above!

Yes, folks in the picturesque city by the Bay, love their Opera.

Years ago, I crashed my first, right here in the oh-so-lofty climbs of San Francisco.

On the night in question - I was down from Canada - to celebrate an exhibit of my work (along with  a handful of other painters from the great white North) at the annual San Francisco Arts Festival right in the heart of the Civic Center.

As I sipped on a glass of wine, and marvelled at the dazzling gem that is the city of San Francisco, I bumped into an outgoing gentleman who was taking a gander at the art works during intermission at an Opera underway that evening across the walkway.

"Have you ever been to the Opera," he quizzed me enthusiastically.

"No," I was forced to sheepishly confess.

"Then, you must come back to the Opera House with me and catch the final act," he gushed.

"But, I don't have a ticket," I lamented, though I was longing to go, now that he set a fire of passion alight in my beating heart.

"No problem," he responded without hestitating a beat.

At this point, he mapped out a diabolical plan, sure to get me through the pristine gold-leafed doors.

"Here, hold my program in your hand," he instructed, without batting-an-eye, as if he had done this a dozen or so times before.

"When the ushers call for us to return to our seats, simply glide through the open door," he beamed, like a Cheshire cat.

"But, what if - "

"They'll assume you were out puffing on a cigarette at intermission. Just act like you belong there," he winked.

Well, I was an actor, wasn't I?

Suddenly, I realized I didn't have a seat, though.

"You can alight in the stand-up section at the back of the Theatre. No problem!"

Gosh, he was quick with an answer for everything, wasn't he?

When the time to pull off the big caper presented itself, I breezed through with flying colors.

That night, I caught Joan Sutherland's last act in one of her celebrated roles!

It was a delicious devilish adventure.

Try it sometime, eh?






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