And, the question on everybody's mind is: should a 50+ (and counting) year-old man have a pony tail?
As the hair on my head generally thins, my pony tail is, admittedly, becoming sparser and sparser. I can, in fact, begin to see a time when, like a cartoon character, people will be able to count its individual strands.
My sister, fulfilling her contractual obligation to be my ambulatory reality check, periodically tells me that I should cut the pony tail off because it looks ridiculous. The pony tail looks ridiculous? I think. Of course the pony tail is ridiculous. I'm ridiculous! Do you not know what I do?
I'll make you a deal. If I overhear somebody say, "Look at that poor man. He must have Alzheimer's - he forgot to go to the barber - for at least a decade!" I will get the pony tail removed. Unless I forget...
The other day, I watched a five and a half hour opera. And, get this: it wasn't by Wagner! I know, right? I didn't think such a thing was possible, either. But, I was there...for most of it...in spirit, and I can tell you that it really did happen.
It was called Les Troyens; the composer was Hector Berlioz. Ah, I thought after it started, it's in French. That explains it: as a matter of national pride, Berlioz wanted to write a longer opera than a...German! The opera community can be weirdly competitive that way.
Walking to the theatre from the subway, I fell in behind a young man and woman who sported backpacks and were dragging small suitcases on wheels behind them. And, I thought, They're prepared! Unfortunately, they walked right past the theatre, killing that observation dead in its tracks.
Les Troyens is based on Virgil's Aeneid. The first act is made up almost entirely of Cassandra whining that nobody listens to her - typical arrested teenagehood. The second act is about the sacking of Troy, which comes as a great surprise to the Trojans, even though one of them noticed that the horse the Greeks had left them was big enough to hold a battalion, and several heard the clanking of metal from inside. History is unkind to those who don't pay attention.
The third act starts with the citizens of Carthage singing about how wonderful it is to live in such an enlightened and peaceful city. You would have thought they would have learned from the Trojans, who began the first act by singing about how wonderful it was to live in such an enlightened, peaceful city. Forget unkind - history can be downright mean to those who don't pay attention.
Act four was just Berlioz showing off his musical chops.
Act five had Dido (an acronym for "deliciousness in, deliciousness out"), the Queen of Carthage, swear eternal vengeance against Aeneas, who abandoned her because the gods foretold that he would die founding an empire in Rome. Given her competition in the cursing Aeneas sweepstakes, you would have thought she would have saved her breath. In the end, Dido killed herself. In opera, this is known as a "happy ending."
In act six, everybody staggered out of the theatre and gasped for fresh air.
My friends believe that going to opera will somehow make me more cultured. Clearly, I'm not civilized yet. But, it's only been three years and I started late, so there's still hope...
A couple of nights later, I was on the way home when I walked into a Coke commercial. A dozen people were clapping their hands, dancing, smiling and laughing while a Toronto Transit Commission approved musician was playing Bob Marley's "No Woman, No Cry." Okay, it was an odd song to be clapping hands, dancing, smiling and etc.ing to, but sometimes you just have to seize the moment, no matter how awkwardly it rests in your hands.
Don't believe me? Hey, the bulge in my breast pocket by the camera I always carry with me isn't there because I'm happy to see you. Of course, I'm happy to see! That's not the point! The - seriously - don't - but - chitlins! - oh, check this out if you don't believe me:
This wasn't a shoot for a commercial, as awesome as some people might find that. It was an actual act of spontaneous joy. You know how I know this? At one time or another, at least half of the people there had taken out their cellphones and were recording the event:
That's not something you're likely to see in no commercial for no sodie pop!
