Puttin´ on the Ritz

I went to the opera for the very first time in my life on Friday, and to my surprise I actually enjoyed it a great deal. I was expecting to want to throw myself from the balcony, what with being subject to shrill singing and violin overload. Honestly, hearing opera music on the radio or seeing it on TV is akin to torture in my experience, but I was happy to discover that it is actually quite captivating when seen live in a grandiose old venue. The piece was "Manon Lescaut" by Puccini, a sort of classic love triangle story (Manon went between a rich banker and a poor student, learning that passion and luxury are two very different things and that you really can't have it all). I was able to follow the story thanks to small LCD screens mounted in front of each seat providing a simultaneous translation of the action in German and English, making the entire spectacle far more edifying. The costumes and set design were also spectacular, as the director took a very modern approach. The best example of this was when the banker called for a chariot, and what appeared on stage but a shiny new Lexus (also a clear sign of corporate sponsorship, but it was a nice touch anyway). There was the obligitary tragic ending - to which my father would probably say "She dies good". Another aspect that I also revelled in was people watching during the intermission- drinking a glass of wine and watching the mingling of Vienna's large contingent of rich, powerful, and glamourous. I don't think I'd ever seen so much fur and Chanel in one place before. I managed to fit in with my Trachtenanzug and a nice purple tie I got in West Virginia for a dollar. Real silk though :) So, in short, Martin's didactic culturisation mission was successful - I am officially a fan of the Opera. Who'd have thought?

Beat Generation - No Thank You

High time for a blog entry, I've finally decided.

I had an unexpected day off yesterday due to "Konferenzen". Upon hearing this, Martin invited me to go to Hungary with him while he went to the dentist, masseur, and barber. I would have been sitting at home otherwise, so I agreed, knowing I could get some cheap cigarettes, read a book, and perhaps collect yet another "H" stamp in my passport. Spent the entire afternoon in a small café reading "Naked Lunch" by WIlliam Burroughs (a coeval and friend of Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg). I found it in the small English section of my local bookstore and it sounded interesting, so I bought it. I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. That single drug-addled, nightmarish, and vile volume was a bad choice for my virginal reading of beat literature - it was enough to turn me off of the genre for at least a decade- and I'm certainly no prude. Having already exlored the border town of Masonmagyaróvár on several previous occaisions, I had nothing to do but to finish the entire thing. Ug. What I'm still wondering- who on earth in Eisenstadt would read this kind of stuff in English? Namely, WHY in the holy Maria's name does the bookstore stock it??

In other antisocial readings- I've spent much of the afternoon in my bathrobe consuming the insane/prurient/louche ramblings of complete strangers in the "best of" section of Craigslist.com. How is that the internet, puportedly an enabler of connectivity, can result in such hermetic practices in someone like as myself? Honestly, I think I'm looking forward to Lernquadrat reopening next week so I can spend more time having real human interaction, albeit a staccato "dialogue" regarding the proper usage of the present perfect.

Going to the opera in Vienna tomorrow- can't wait to comment on that.

Also- camera to PC transfer cable has been misplaced. No photos for no, unfortunately.