My Story

Today is my birthday, and it wouldn’t be complete, nor quite so festive, without the traditional birthday call from Bidu Sayao.

listen 12:01 a.m. precisely, every July 3rd.

Since my grandmother did the exact same thing before she passed away, I’ve adopted Mme Sayao as my “Avó”. We should all have a Brazilian grandmother, and now I’ve got mine. She calls me her “Dear Met” and I call her “Mammaw Bidu” (it sounds Portuguese, even if it isn’t)

Every year when Bidu Sayao calls, I listen amazed. The quality. It’s so lifelike. I wonder which cell phone carrier she uses?

“Julie Christie as Lara, the violent, sensual, sensitive girl” -Doctor Zhivago, Original Theatrical Trailer

Inevitably, watching Doctor Zhivago, seeing Julie Christie as Lara, or, most especially, hearing that damn theme of hers, there’s one question that I keep asking myself over and over again …

“I’m violent and sensual and sensitive too. Why don’t I have a theme? I want a theme. Why Lara? Why her? I want to be an “international hit” too. If only I had Lara’s theme, then everything would be alright.”

“What happens to a theme like that when a man like you is finished with her?”

“Interested? I give her to you - as a birthday present.”

theme

Apparently, Basque crooner Luis Mariano is what happens to a theme like this one when men like you are finished with her — and I’m so glad. I love it. Lara’s theme, finalmente mia! This is the best birthday present ever!

“Somewhere my love there will be songs to sing….”

You can take the boy out of Dallas, but you can’t take Dallas out of the boy (and believe me, I’ve tried). This opera fanatic must have his Dr. Pepper break at 10, 2 & 4 respectively, a.m and p.m., no matter what. Period. So, let’s see. It’s 4 a.m. on Saturday morning. Oops, must be that time.

“Gif me a visky, Dr. Pepper on the side, and don’ be stingy, baby.”

Oh hell. I’ll just make it myself. You may not know this but … you won’t get drunk from anything you mix with Dr. Pepper. You can’t get drunk. Something in the Dr. Pepper cancels out the alcohol … somehow. It’s the truth, I swear — and I should know. Ask Suellen Ewing if you don’t believe me. She’ll back me up.

Or better still, ask Bea Arthur.

mame

“He’ll Love It!

My sentiments exactly, and besides it’s one of the funniest lines in American musical theater (if delivered properly, of course. Don’t try at home unless you are gay, the first lady of the American theater, or a golden girl still playing with all your marbles). Seriously however, while Vera Charles comes across as a flaming homeopathic, her medical advice may actually be quite sound.

“An Excitingly Different Drink at Home, at Parties - for All your “Fun Times!”

I’ll drink to that.

“Drink It At 10, 2 And 4 For 8 Full Days -Then See How Much More You Enjoy Time Out With Dr.Pepper”

And not just with Dr. Pepper, I enjoy my time out with ALL the boys a lot more.

The Dr.Pepper diet. Well, not quite. The Dr.Pepper Picker-Upper. The Dr.Pepper Enable? Dr-Pepper-Zac?

Will my Dr. Pepper addiction finally get me on the Dr. Phil show? “Dr. Phil, I can stop anytime I want, and “no” I didn’t have a bottle of Dr. Pepper right before the show.”

Luckily for me, it’s a little harder to score the Doc up north than it was down in Texas. I hear it’s that way with a lot of things. I’d rig up my own Dr. Pepper lab but I’d get busted for patent infringement, and the fumes would probably be toxic to my cats.

Will a surprisingly informative Wikipedia entry mix with Dr. Pepper?

“He’ll Love It!”

Oh dear. I’ve had quite the reality check tonight. The “Oracle Of YouTube” showed me just how vast the distance between New York and Philly, and how far my relocation journey has taken me. 3 hours by car? 1 hour by train? Not even close. In moving from New York to Philly, I went from being ….

sitcom-nyc

to being ….

sitcom-philly

Let all that profoundness wash over you for a moment, while I dial my therapist. Where’s my therapist’s number? Oh, I don’t have a therapist. Well, at least my Philly love interest (Robert Hays) will be way hotter than my New York “Donald” — that is, if he ever shows up for taping, so to speak. Hope he wasn’t murdered for his iPod before I got here.

Still, it could be worse: (a) It could be raining (my favorite “Young Frankenstein” quote, and that’s saying a lot) and (b) I could have moved to Indianapolis instead. By so doing, my inner Marlo would have bypassed my inner Donna entirely, only to become …oh, it’s too horrible to contemplate, so watch the YouTube video instead to figure out the distance in sitcom miles from NY to IN.

Kids …. you give something to one, and you gotta give it to the other one too. For example …

Calvin, the step-cat, (aka “Big Papa”, “The George Clooney Of Pussycats”) was not about to allow Boo to become Martha Stewart’s next feline spokesmodel without a cat-fight (see “Guten Abend, Pussycat“). In an unprecedented move, he sprawled across our new Martha Stewart comforter and demanded equal air-time, or else.

Ain’t No La Sonnambulas In This House! Bootylicious (”Boo”), my youngest, on our new Martha Stewart comforter.

lullaby Brahms “Lullaby”. Christa Ludwig. 1971.

The other day, I got this uncontrollable urge to surf around Vinyl Divas, the fanatical website devoted to the lost art of divadienst LP covers. I had no particular reason to visit the site that day, but I felt compelled to go to Vinyl Divas right then. I didn’t know why. Now, I do.

Waiting for me at Vinyl Divas was a postcard. A postcard from the great beyond, in fact, sent to me by my recently-deceased black cat. When I saw it, I immediately knew my purpose for visiting Vinyl Divas that day. I also immediately knew the message I was receiving.

“Don’t Worry. Marian Anderson’s Taking Great Care Of Me. Miss You Lots. See You Soon. Love, Oprah”

Every time I take the milk train from Philly to Manhattan … and back again … I am confronted with reality in big blazing letters.

The World Takes

Takes, Takes, Takes

I Make, And I Make, And I Make

AND THE WORLD JUST F***’IN TAKES!

I am nearing my fortieth year. I will this year sing forty roles, three times each, here and there. The roles are:

Violetta in “La Traviata; Desdemona, in “Otello”; Leonora, in “Il Trovatore”; Azucena, in the same opera; Lady Macbeth, in “Macbeth”; Mistress Quickly, in “Falstaff”; Amneris, in “Aida”; the Princess of Eboli, in “Don Carlo”; “Norma”, the title role; Elvira, in “I Puritani”; Donna Elvira, in “Don Giovanni”; Donna Anna, in the same opera; the Countess, in “Le Nozze di Figaro”; the Queen of the Night, in “Die Zauberflote”; Orfeo, in “Orfeo ed Euridice”; Poppea, in “L’Incoronazione di Poppea”; the Marschallin, in “Der Rosenkavalier”; Octavian, the title role in the same opera; “Elektra” and “Salome”, the title roles; the Dyer’s Wife, in “Die Frau ohne Schatten”; Sieglinde, in “Die Walkure”; Brunnhilde, in the same music drama; Elisabeth, in “Tannhauser”; “Manon” and “Thais”, the title roles; “Louise”, the title role; Dalila, in “Samson et Dalila”; “Carmen”, the title role; Cassandra, in “Les Troyens”; Dido, in the same opera (in the same performance); “Rusalka”, the title role; “Turandot”, the title role; Minnie, in “La Fanciulla del West”; Cio-Cio San, in “Madama Butterfly”; Marie, in Berg’s “Wozzeck”; Jocasta, in Stravinsky’s “Oedipus Rex”; Emilia Marti, in Janacek’s “The Makropoulos Affair”; Leonore, in “Fidelio”; and Romeo, in Bellini’s “I Capuletti ed i Montecchi.”

Yes, it is good to be back.

Happy New You!

from Mawrdew Czgowchwz,

the fanatic formerly known as the NYCOF

“There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.”

Albert Schweitzer

Some guys dismiss any invitation from the NYC Opera Fanatic outright.

“With your red hair & pouty lips, you remind me too much of that Fleming woman”.

Other guys set very high standards for themselves

“Are you German?”
NYCOF: “Why, yes, I am, on my mother’s side”
“How nice for you, but can you trace your lineage back to both Elisabeth Schwarzkopf AND the Dukes of Saxony?”

Mother always warned me that men only want one thing; unfortunately, with male opera fanatics, to get a date, they usually want something other than what the NYCOF has to give

“Can you get me tickets to the Kathleen Battle recital in Odessa, Texas?” or “Can I see your list of opera recordings before I commit?”

Even if one can manage to score a date with some sexy opera fanatic, one still has to “sparkle” all evening. Alas, the NYC Opera Fanatic always seems to insert foot-in-mouth. My advice: (a) don’t drink alcohol on the date and (b) let the other opera fanatic do all the talking. Never say, as I did:

1. “Who is this Marisa Galvany chick anyway?”
2. “I always preferred Jan Peerce to Richard Tucker”
3. “Tebaldi schamldi”
4. “Do we have to sit in your apartment and watch Scotto as Elisabetta again?”
5. “Should I have heard of you?” (primarily used if on date with a counter-tenor,actor or television personality)

Despite all my dating trials and tribulations, I’m not sure if I would have had any better luck dating someone who wasn’t an opera fanatic. I’ve tried it –with a baseball fanatic — a Cubs fan, no less. I didn’t miss opera-going since there was nothing more operatic than those World Series playoffs, televised of course. How civilized.

So, what was the nail in the coffin with the Cubs fan? Well, just as one cannot fake one’s opera knowledge (“I love opera. I’ve seen Phantom 5 times!“), one cannot fake sports knowledge either.

1. “Do you think he’s offended by being called the Short-Stop when he’s really not that short?”
2. “Oh well, honey, there’s always next year”
3. “So, if a fan catches a ball is that an out too?”
4. “Why don’t they just let a damn goat into the game today?”
5. “You’d love opera….it’s full of curses too!”

“Ah, l’amour, l’amour. MALEDIZIONE!