Have You Been To The Met?

I did something wonderful today. Today, I went to the Met. Yes, The Metropolitan Opera. The one in New York.

Only I didn't travel halfway across the country; I drove 30 mintes to a theater near me and watched it simulcast live, complete with backstage interviews with the performers! It was beautiful. And delightful.

The audience was mostly seniors. I like seniors. I like that they appreciate the beauty of classic expressions of art. I like that they support it with their time and money. But mostly, I like that seniors are old enough and mannered enough to remember that this is not their living room, and there is no pause button to facilitate their asking a question of, or making a comment to their neighbor. Nobody needed to be shushed today, and that was soooooo nice.

Because most of my fellow patrons were seniors, most of them dressed for the event, too. What an opportunity to step back in time -- or over in society perhaps -- to mingle with a segment of the population that still has some dignity and respect for themselves and others.

Because I'm living in a city where people are comfortable wearing jeans to a funeral.

And I'm living in a time when too many Christians dress without any care at all, to worship their King.

I'm raising children in a day when issues of gender-specific matters of the most private nature are easily presented to mixed audiences, and no one blinks an eye anymore.

It's repulsive, not revolutionary. Pathetic, not progressive. Crass, not comfortable. It's a picture of our culture going down the commode. Pardon my reference.

But that's not really what my day at the opera left me with. I digress.

My afternoon with 3 acts of I, Puritani garnered me some wonderful benefits. I found that I was living in the moment, if only for a few hours. That's not something that comes easily to me, I'm afraid, but in watching Anna Netrebko voice Elvira, I was completely entranced and appreciative of the gift of beauty through art that God has bestowed upon this fallen race.

I walked away with something else, too. One might think the opera a strange place to find spiritual victory, but I did.

I was sitting alone, and on the aisle. This meant that during both intermissions, and even occasionally between scenes, I would be required to stand up, up to a dozen times to let people pass on the way out of the row. And then another dozen times to let them back in.

"People need to leave their seats sometimes," I told myself, "especially older folks. I'm not going to let myself be irritated by it."

And I didn't, for awhile.

But at the end of the 2nd intermission, after I'd cheerfully stood numerous times to let people out, a giant gentleman came up and pardoned himself, saying, "I just want to talk to some of my friends right there."

Here, cheerful changed to cordial.

And then, the nice woman with whom I had made small talk before the opera began came back from wherever she went, and it was my pleasure to let her in.

Not 60 seconds later, she was on her feet again headed my way! Grrrrrr.

At this point, I'm rehearsing my response in my head. It's what I wished I could say; it's what I would not have hesitated to say 10 years ago. It sounded something like, "No way. Sit down. You. are. done. You are not leaving this row again. You just came back not 1 minute ago! You're done."

(If your browswer slows down at this point, it might be shocked cyber-friends republishing their blogs after taking me off their blogroll. Because, yes, I'm human a sinner that way.)

But this ends well. Very well. As these rude words were making their way through my thought channel, I prayed. I prayed the Lord would help me just bear this little inconvenience -- however inconsiderate. I prayed He would just help me tame my tongue in that moment.

And so I said nothing.

And then she stopped.

She wasn't coming toward me to leave the row afterall. She was coming over to me to give me something. Based on our earlier conversation, she knew I was a music lover and she even knew some of my choir collegues.

And what she gave me was $240 worth of complimentary tickets to an upcoming music event produced by a local favorite. Beethoven. Costumes. Vignettes. And a chocolate fountain reception afterward. Free.

I am so glad that I kept my mouth shut! Anyone want to join me?