Tonight the Spongebob movie opens, which means Reese and I are going to be hysterical until we see it. Spongebob is our hero—all of us clinging optimistically to our immaturity for as long as we can. Last night BC and I saw Ligeti’s Le Grand Macabre at the SF Opera, a modern opera about the end of the world, which never comes and love conquers all. It opens with a symphony of car horns, and there’s lots of cross-dressing, a housekeeper who turns her astrologer boss into a sex slave, and a counter-tenor, Prince Go-Go, and a delightful exchange between the Black and White Politicians, insulting each other through alphabetical name-calling–the name “Ass-licker-Ass-licker!” opens the third scene. I didn’t bother to look at my tickets until 7:15 to notice that it started at 7:30, so we jumped in a cab and yelled, “Quick, to the opera house, the curtain goes up in 7 minutes!” as if we were supposed to be behind the curtain in 7 minutes. Our driver got us there just as the lights went down. As we settled into our seats, I could see the disappointment in the faces of those behind and next to us who thought they were going to enjoy unobstructed views and elbow room.
Tonight the birthday week winds down with the sacra familia over for lasagne and a sampling of the current Beaujolais Nouveau. Stop by if you’re in the ‘hood!