Madonna and Genetically-Beautiful Daughter (a.k.a. Sophia now) were on when I got on, and Sophia was absolutely dolled up. She looked adorable. They made their early morning exit, as has become their routine, at the stop after I got on.
There was a white couple sitting in front of me with a little baby, who was grabbing at everything it could including one of the signs, which the mother promptly took away from him (or her, I couldn't tell). Then s/he grabbed mama's purse in such a way that stuff came tumbling out of it, which daddy promptly picked up.
As he bent over to pick up an item, I saw that his shoelaces were so long (and wide, actually) that he'd wrapped them underneath his shoes. Speaking of shoes, they were quite large. Big shoes. You know what that means. Big socks.
Grumpy Boy got on at his stop with a Levis Strauss t-shirt that didn't say anything amusing today.
At the next stop those cute little boys sent their daddy onto the bus. He turned and said goodbye to them as he got on, and they watched him through the windows as he made his way to a seat toward the back, waving goodbye to him the entire time.
At the stop just before mine, the couple with the baby got off the bus, and when the "daddy" stood up, I saw that it was not his shoelaces wrapped under his tennis shoes, but the ends of his pant legs that had been cut, I guess, to slide under. Perhaps in case someone tried to steal his pants by pulling them up over his head? But I digress...
Once again, I spent the morning doing action items for a 1:00 meeting. Done. Presented. Went well.
I walked down to Laziz Biryani for lunch, where I had one of their most delicious Chicken Kabob Wraps. On the way back, I passed three people—presumably all students—on their cell phones, and I heard each one of them say, "Where are you at?" Ditch the "at," folks. "Where are you?" is all that's needed.
A colleague of mine, awesome Jason Austin, gave me a ride to Sammy's Tap & Grill, where we had a couple of drinks with a few other colleagues, and then he dropped me off at home.
I met Mary at Memorial Auditorium in the Progress Energy Center for the Performing Arts for Rigoletto. This performance was postponed from the spring, so we were glad to finally be seeing it. The first thing we did was to review my mind map of the synopsis: (Depending on your screen size, clicking may enlarge image.)
Mind maps from previous operas are available for your viewing pleasure here: The Merry Widow (sorry the image size is so small; I don't have the original to make it bigger), Tosca (love this one with all the death in the end), The Barber of Seville.
Before the performance started, they made an announcement that the lead female singer "has been fighting a sinus infection all week, but she has graciously agreed to perform tonight." In the synopsis, it alludes to the fact that her character takes one last gasp before dying at the end, to which Mary said after this sinus infection announcement, "The dying scene ought to be really good, then."
I have never been to an opera where the silence between two scenes was more than two minutes long. During the first one, on the screen above the stage where the translation was being projected, it said, "Scene change—please remain seated." It did not say, "Tawk amongst yaselves," but after a couple of minutes, that's exactly what people started doing. I mean it's not like we were in a library after all.
We couldn't hear any noise indicating the scenery was being changed or swapped out or anything, and when the curtain opened, essentially, it looked like they had just removed one piece of the scenery from the left side of what was still up there. We were, like, "Huh? All that time for that?" Plus, I mean doesn't Verdi have enough of a repertoire that they could have played a few of his other tunes, or part of the overture or a reprise or something in the downtime? It was just odd.
In addition to those two instances of awkward silence, at one point after the intermission—I can't remember if it was in Act II or Act III—awkward lighting occurred. The house lights came up right in the middle of a scene. My first thought was, "This isn't the Lion King. We're not expecting Rigoletto to come running down the aisle and onto the stage, are we?" Odd.
Speaking—sorta— of the intermission, toward the end of it, the lady sitting next to me saw my mind map and asked me what it was. After sharing it among her group, I noted that it would be in my blog, to which she asked, "Oh, what's your blog address?" Hello there, if you're reading! :-)
I walked Mary to her car, and then walked to my car humming La Donna e Mobile.
At my car, I changed into shorts and t-shirt to stop by Flex. It was First Friday, so the alternative folks were there. I spent about an hour or so there, and most of that time talking with Phil M. and a guy named Ed, who is a friend Phil's partner, Joe, and whom Phil was talking to when I walked up to him.
I forgot about the blog survey that I created several years ago. If you're feeling generous with three minutes or less of your time, I'd love the feedback: A Survey about Dailyafirmation's: A Day in the Life: Digital Digressions.