Today Jesus is dying for our sins. Before he goes, I want to thank him for metro transit. If it wasn't for the bus lane in downtown Minneapolis, I wouldn't have seen the advertisement for Wuthering Heights, my absolute favorite book ever in opera form. Of course I had to get tickets, despite the fact that the closest I've ever been to an opera is filling "aria" into my crossword puzzle. I tried to bribe my sister to go because she can get extra credit for performances in her band class, but she is always too busy being an angsty teen. Thus, I decided to invite my grandma. She's in a book club, she has read my favorite book, and she's a cheap senior discount date. Good plan right?
Let me tell you, my grandma does not like anything. She kindly informed me that she was very excited. And then proceeded to go on about how much she disliked reading Wuthering Heights because it's too dark and twisted. Oh and, she's so glad that no one in our family acts like Heathcliff and Cathy. One more doozy: The only other time she's been to an opera, she walked out. IN ROME.
What. A. Buzz. Kill.
The text messages I exchanged with my dad after I called my grandma went like this:
-"WHY DOES SHE DO THIS TO ME? UGH."
-"I nvr ask her 2 do nething nemore. Dnt worry. She told me shes xcited last wk wen I accidently told her ur plan."
-"Right, Kesha. We R Who We R. If she tries to leave I'm putting her in a cab to the nunnery"
-"wat?"
After I purchased our discounted tickets at exactly 5:54 p.m., I bounced around for a few minutes and screamed in excitement. My younger sister (who is just learning how to tell time) yelled at me, "Shut up kay kay, It's 12:30, wait a half hour will you?" I forgot all about my grandma being a gigantic bore until later in the week when I called her to confirm our plans and she said "Oh goodness, I haven't been downtown in 20 years. That should be interesting." Gahhhhhh.
I was so, so wrong. The entire night was fantastic (besides the huge run that my control top nylons acquired while I was crawling around looking for shoes). Wuthering Heights at The Ordway in St. Paul was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It brought tears to my eyeballs, I was so moved. But remember, I am an amateur opera attendee. I'm the girl who duct taped two toilet paper rolls together to make theater binoculars. I was so happy that FINALLY someone (Hindley's character) had managed to make the phrase "I'm going to kick out your brains" sound classy and glamorous. Not to mention opera singers are spicy hot, but I wasn't about to say that to my grandma.
(I'm 66% sure you're not supposed to take pictures)
My G-unit either pretended to feel the same way as me, or she really did enjoy herself. She happened to murmur after the house lights went up that she may just finish reading the book. That is all that I could ask for.
Next time you see me I'll be in Seat 9, Mezzanine Box J. Either that or I'm auditioning for the next opera season. I sang "Hot Blooded" by Foreigner in aria at work today and everyone just adored it....
Happy Earth Day and Good Friday, adieu :)
-kb
P.S. If you have a chance tomorrow night (April 23rd) and you're in the Twin Cities you should try and get tickets for the last performance. Wuthering Heights starts at 7:30 P.M. at The Ordway in the cardiac cavity of St. Paul. It's in English, and if you haven't spent the last 20 years tuning your ear to understand "sopranist" they have subtitles above the stage. You can get tickets at mnopera.org. Remember to call the offices for a discounted price if you're a student (k-12/college) or if you're going with your 65+ picky grandmother. -Also, If you're a lucky s.o.b. and you get backstage, ask the orchestra conductor how much his hands are insured for. Report back. I was curious.
