Playing on the B Team - maybe it has its benefits?

I went through a crisis of confidence last Monday.  In the interests of privacy - and my own pride - I won't bore you with the details.  Suffice it to say that it was made patently obvious at work that I was playing on the B team, not to be trusted with anything of importance.  Oh, I've known it for some time now, but was cruelly reminded of it.  Believe it or not, I actually shed tears, although, gratefully, not in front of anyone else.  Nor did I stomp over to the corner office to resign, although, admittedly, I was helped in that resolve by the fact that the resident was not there.  As always, I was also helped by my low tolerance level for boredom, and self pity is hugely boring.  In short, I have gotten over it.  I have decided on this narrative:  I am still of value to the organization, even playing on the B team.  It must be so, as they are still paying me.  And, on the bright side, there are fewer expectations.  So, onward.

Wednesday evening, played bridge at the club with Dennis.  He hadn't been going to the club for at least a decade, and I am really honoured that he has asked me to go on several occasions recently.  (In my opinion, he is hands-down the best player in our little group.)  And we actually managed to eke out some points.

On Thursday night, it was off to dinner and the theater with friend Tom.  We decided to eat at our old standby, Enigma, although we had gotten bored with it.  Lo and behold, it has had a makeover...

and a change of ownership (not to mention a great happy hour menu).  We were very pleasantly surprised - and with the theater as well.  We saw A Few Good Men, by Aaron Sorkin.  (Some of you, of a certain age, probably remember the movie, with Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruse, when he was still young and normal.)  I had never seen the movie.  Turns out, it was a very good play, and the Ensemble Theater Company did a wonderful job with it.  Worth the sweltering heat - turns out, if they put on the air conditioner, the audience was unable to hear the dialog....

.....followed by bridge with the boys at John's on Friday night.  (God bless him, he barbequed, and is really working at making hamburgers that are not the consistency of hockey pucks....)  It may not be the best bridge, but we always have a lot of laughs...

......and more theater on Saturday, this time a matinee at the Arts Club on Granville Island.  It was even worth battling the traffic, the parking issues (although I have to say, I have unusually good parking karma), and the hordes of people on Granville on a sunny summer Saturday.  The play was Once, a musical (also apparently a movie, nominated for an Academy Award in, ohm 2009 I think.  It wasn't a play so much as a flimsy scaffold on which to hang a bunch of songs.  However, it was great fun, the audience (a full house for a change) loved it.  I did too, although plays - and especially musicals - about love are always a stark reminder that I aint got none.....

Reading?  Well, I still haven't finished Gulag. (It's not one of those books you can read straight through - too depressing.)  In the effort to absorb all things Russian before my trip, I also read Panic In A Suitcase, by Yelena Akhtiorsk.  It is about a Russian Jewish family from Odessa transplanted to Brighton Beach - written by a Russian Jew from Brighton Beach.  I can't say that I can wholeheartedly recommend it, but it did provide a window of sorts into the Russian soul, which I am looking for right now.

Finally, I read A Coin in Nine Hands, a book written in 1934 about Mussolini's Rome.  Again, I was not taken by the writing - or perhaps, a poor translation - but the descriptions of the leader, and the politic manipulation of a people, were uncannily apt.  I am not sorry I read it. 

Finally, I have to tell you that this is my first post on a new device.  I broke down and got a NoteBook, for purposes of having something to take with me to Russia - so I can keep you posted from there.  I have actually managed to get it set up (with only minimal help from the IT people at work), and it looks like it will work swimmingly.

I leave in a little over three weeks.  I must admit, I am anxious - and generally speaking, I am not anxious when I travel.  Oh, well, all reservations have been made, I have rubles and visas in hand, and a working credit card.  What can go wrong? 

In any event, you will hear from me again before I leave...

Happy birthday to me!

A good birthday week all around, with lunches and dinners all week.  It started with lunch with colleague Paul, his treat, on account of it being my birthday week and all.  He is a much more adventurous eater than I; on Monday, we tried what, in effect, was an Asian fusion diner.  Food was only so-so, but it was lots of fun to try (as usual in Richmond, we were the only round-eyes in the place; Richmond is now over 80% Asian).

Tuesday, friend Deirdre came over from Victoria for some "one-on-one" birthday time.  In a departure from our usual ethnic fare, we walked over to my local pub. Romers, for some good old pub fare, for Deirdre, fish and chips, and for me, a hamburger (something I eat about once a year).  Oh, and I got to have a drink too, as, for a change, I wasn't driving, and I do love Romer's peach bellinis!

Wednesday, the actual birthday. was marked by the traditional dim sum at the Victoria with friend Richard.... 

As careful followers of these pages will remember, Richard and I went to law school together, briefly practiced law together, and have been friends for over 40 years.  In recent years, we have taken to celebrating our respective birthdays with dim sum at Victoria.  We never seem to tire of it, nor do we ever seem to run out of things to talk about.  (I guess that's not so surprising, since we only see each other twice a year....)

Oh, and thanks to Facebook, my day was also filled with good wishes from totally unexpected people, friends and family alike, and even a call from Brother Bobbie (from Puerto Vallarta by way of Palm Springs).  And no, he's not really my brother, or Mariah's either, but she has always called him that, and I got in the habit.

And, in the interest of full disclosure, I should say that, in spite of the fact that we have barely spoken for almost nine months, Mariah acknowledged my birthday with a brief text.  (I was not as gracious, I am afraid, having ignored her birthday two weeks earlier).  I responded, but the whole thing felt - yucky.  I am not unhappy that I have chosen not to have her in my life any more - she was behaving too much like my mother - dismissive, judgmental and controlling - but still, it is a loss.

Thursday continued the annual traditions; for a number of years now, Bea and I have celebrated our joint July birthdays with dinner and an outing at Bard on the Beach.  This year, we returned to the high end  Japanese restaurant - I never remember the name -

...we even ordered saki.....

....and oysters...

.... and, in the interest of trying something new, a seafood shooter (the taste wasn't bad, but the consistency made me gag) (note to self; remember not to order next year.  At least not for me.  Bea, however, loved it...)

The Bard on the Beach offering was As you Like It, set in the Okanagen in the 60's, accompanied by a trove of songs from the Beatles.  Much as I pride myself on being a grinch, and much as I like my Shakespeare straight, even I was captivated (although I tried not to show it).  Part of it, I am sure, was Bea's unabashed delight - her enthusiasm was catching.  A lovely evening.

Friday was a different matter altogether.  Not that the company wasn't great - I always enjoy Arlene's visits from Seattle .  Dinner was good.  Arlene has become a real foodie, and had several eating agenda items, including Rangoli, a "new style" Indian restaurant we had tried the last time she was here.

I include this food shot only in contrast with the Japanese restaurant the night before.  Japanese food presents so much better....

Then we headed off to the theater, to see Aristophanes' Lysistrata.  That's where we went wrong.  We should have quit while we were ahead.  What an awful play.  It is bawdy and vulgar and not at all subtle.  (for those of you who don't know, the plot revolves around the women of Athens and Sparta going on a sex strike until the men conclude the war).  To add insult to injury, Christopher Gaze, the artistic director, wrapped it all in a play within a play, in his usual habit of not trusting his audience to understand the modern connection unless they are beaten over the head with it.

Suffice it to say that we left at intermission.  At home, I found that I had a copy of the play (why is no one surprised?) and read it.  It was every bit as vulgar as it was on stage, with enormous penises, shaved pudenda, farts and belches.  Who knew?

The interesting thing happened the next day.  We had signed up for a seminar on the play, and, in the interest of enlightenment, decided to go, in spite of the fact that we hated the play.  We were, indeed, enlightened.  The lecturer was both a performer and extremely knowledgeable,  and while we agreed that we were never going to like the play, we understood the context, political and social, and to me that is key - to just about everything.

We were still talking about it hours later at dim sum at Fisherman's Terrace (another culinary repeat from last year requested by Arlene)....

a

....as much as you can talk about anything in the din of that restaurant.

We capped the day with yet another theater outing, going to see  Repertory Theater's version of The Beauty Queen of Leelane, by Martin McDonagh.  If the name sounds familiar, it should; he apparently wrote the screen play for Three Billboards.  This was every bit as violent, and dark as only the Irish (and maybe the Russians) can be dark.  Nonetheless, it met our criteria for good theater - we cared about these people - although we agreed that the production could have been better.  Still, a good night at the theater - marred only by the fact that Arlene requested that I put the top up on the way home!

Arlene left Sunday morning, and we agreed that it had been a great weekend;  good weather, good food, good, intelligent conversation. a learning opportunity, and, of course, theater.

But the festivities continued.  No sooner was Arlene on the road then I was too (top down now, of course), on the way to friend Debbie's house.  Debbie, Robin and I went to law school together, many moons ago, and have been celebrating our birthdays jointly ever since.

......so Robin (left) and Debbie (right) started in her lovely yard....

.....and ended up in Sun Sui Wah for dim sum.

Yes, I know I had dim sum the day before, but Robin hasn't had it for decades (literally - maybe 4?) and it was her year to chose.  Another great restaurant - I swear, there are no grade b Chinese restaurants in Vancouver - and another great tradition carried forward!

You'll be happy to hear that is the end of the birthday celebrations.  Well, I kind of missed the 70th, so I had to milk 72 for all it was worth.  And let me say it again; if I would have known I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself...

Spoiler alert:  Monday (i.e., yesterday) was a downer, so I will leave it for next time, and close on the high note of friends, food and fun.  More anon.  

What's wrong with me?

Oh, I'm fine, physically.  It's just mentally that I seem to be losing it.  Friends have dogs.  They're gaga over their dogs.  I feel nothing.  I am not afraid of them.  I don't hate them.  I just feel none of the "Isn't that adorable" that I'm apparently supposed to feel.  I don't even understand how they feel it.  It is just totally foreign, like I am visiting from another planet and have to be told how to react.  Children?  Ditto, except they are more annoying than dogs.  (When they were passing out the "want children" gene, I must have been standing behind the door.)

Friend Chaya from Palm Springs has been visiting all week, and so I have been taking her around to the various neighborhoods.  Where she sees vibrant neighborhoods with benign hustle and bustle, I see prams taking up the sidewalk, screaming - and running (they are always running) - children, and dogs, everywhere.

When did I stop being able to relate to the human condition?  I seem to care about nothing.  Chaya - and other friends - are politically passionate and involved.  I am removed.

Oh, I'm still interested, in an academic way.  I read.  I go to the theater.  I try to understand.  But, ultimately, I don't care. 

Maybe I'm a sociopath.

Well, this sociopath did play tour guide all week as best I could, and we saw UBC, Point Grey, Kitsilano. Kerrisdale, and Granville Island.  We even saw the downtown east side, homeless, addicts, drunks and all.  For Chaya, it was an indication of the failure of society.  I, on the other hand, couldn't find it in my heart to care very much - or, really, at all. 

I even took Chaya to see Macbeth at Bard on the Beach.  (It was a wonderful production; it never ceases to amaze me how relevant Shakespeare still is 400 years later.)  Some of the lines could have been ripped out of the headlines of a newspaper, if anyone still read newspapers. 

We had two meals at the Dosa House.  Dosas are apparently a big thing in South India, where Chaya emmigrated from (many, many years past), and there are no - and I mean no - good Indian restaurants in Palm Springs.  My choice was a big success! 

On Friday night, I brought Chaya along to a previously planned dinner at friend Joanne's, loosely in honour of my upcoming birthday.

....here's Susan with Wally, one of the aforementioned dogs...

......okay, he is cute, but that is as far as I will go.  And I will definitely NOT pick up one of those slimy toys and toss it for him.  Here Joanne, out hostess, below.....

.....who deals with my curmudgeonly nature with a smile.

Below, Deidre, the organizer (and bringer of the cake)...

....and friend Chaya, who was a big hit with my colleagues.....

It was lovely to be feted, and I was hugely grateful.  And yet.  And yet.  I was disconnected, somehow, as if I didn't belong there, among these lovely, happy, smart people, with families and dogs and activities to participate in.

And no, I don't need a lecture on how many friends I have and how much I do.  In a way, that's the point.  What the hell is the matter with me?

Chaya left Saturday, a little disillusioned with me, and my lack of empathy, I fear.  I spent the rest of the day catching up with my Dottie Domestic duties - and nap time - and tried to shake my torpor with a long walk by the river. However, my listening material is currently Dostoevsky's The Devils - interesting, certainly, but not cheerful.

(My current nighttable book is not much better, a history of the Russian gulag by Anne Applebaum.  Even the most recent murder mystery, another Peter Robinson, When the Music's Over, was depressing.  Hey, there's a thought!  Maybe I should change my reading material.....)

Today, another social outing, brunch at Heather's, a former colleague.

Below, Donna, Susan, and hostess Heather..

Again, good food, good conversation.  I participated, all right, but, again, felt as though I were visiting from another planet.

Busy week next week, lots of different people.  Let's hope I can do better....

San Francisco is a hard act to follow......

Indeed, there has not been much going on.  Lots of bridge, at different venues: with Dennis at the bridge club the Wednesday after I got back, bridge at Dennis's house on Thursday, and back at John's - with a slightly different cast of characters on Friday.

Here we are at Dennis place....

...or, more accurately, at Minoas, the Greek taverna near his place (previously mentioned in these pages) where we had dinner before bridge.  More bridge at the club with Alex too.  You'd think with all this playing that I would be getting better, but from my scores, that doesn't appear to be the case...

Some work finally arrived on my desk, and I'm hugely grateful for it.  For all my resolve not to make work a substitute for my social life, I do miss it when I have no excuse to go in.  For all my other activities, I feel the lack of structure when I am not working....

There was some variety this week, though.  Below, bridge at John's was preceded by a cake (brought by yours truly) to celebrate his 58th birthday - a mere baby....

..from left to right, Jules, his wife Ruixa, John and Dennis above,

There have been some pure social outings too.  Friend Jack came to visit one evening, for a drink and a chin-wag.  We haven't sat down and just talked for a while, and it was good to catch up.  I also managed to find Bea without her lunch in the office, so we headed out for Japanese, and more catching up.

What else can I tell you?  Not much, really.  Reading (or, in one case, listening)?  Where did I leave you?  I don't think I have told you about How to Change Your Mind by Michael Pollan.  This book was another accidental find - I recognized the author, having read and liked several of his books on various sociological topics (he is a reporter by trade) , and I clicked "add to cart" on that basis only.  Turns out it a book about psychedelic drugs, and their possible use as a treatment for depression, anxiety and addiction, not to mention as a means of making "healthy normals" happier.  Who would have thought I would find that interesting?  But I did, a combination of his great writing and the fact that he is a good reader too - this was an audiobook, accompanying me on my walks these last few weeks..  

On a lighter note, just finished another Peter Robinson mystery, All the Colors of Darkness.  "Lighter" is a relative term, of course.  It was actually fairly dark for a New York Times bestseller sort of mystery.  But I do like his characters and plots, and am working my way down the list of maybe 30 that he has written.  If you are looking for a new good read, you could do worse.

Finally, I will sign off soon so I can finish The Magpie Murders by Anthony Horowitz.  It is definitely a page-turner, a cross between Agatha Christie and a post modern novel.  I literally have barely been able to put it down.

A parade of out-of-town guests visiting in the next few weeks.  Trying to keep them amused will keep me busier, and therefore happier; I don't do well with not enough to do, and have been pretty poopy since I've been back.  

I will try to keep you in the loop.

Notes from San Francisco

Or, more accurately, notes about San Francisco, as I have been home for a week.

It was a great trip.  I stayed at my usual B & B, the Hayes Valley Inn.  It passes for cheap in San Francisco, and is two blocks from the opera house.  B & B is not strictly right; the breakfast offering is so pedestrian, and the coffee is so terrible, that I have taken to eating breakfast (or at least coffee) elsewhere.  That was particularly true this trip, when I discovered Johnnie's Doughnuts a few blocks away.  I know, I know, a dreadfully incorrect breakfast, and, generally speaking, \i am not even a big fan of doughnuts, but god these were good.  I started with a maple bar (in David's honour, his favourite) and branched out to lemon poppyseed and beyond.  Bespoke doughnuts.  Only in San Francisco.

As a lot of you know, this long planned trip was to see and hear Wagner's Ring.  But Peter, god bless his little heart, filled the week with other music events, Wagner related outtings, and, of course, good food.  I'll will do those first, and then double back to the Ring, which was performed on Tuesday, Wednesday. Friday and Sunday..

I arrived Monday mid-day. and just had time to unpack and nap before meeting Peter and friend Fay for a light dinner at Arlequin, a favourite for opera and ballet-goers.

Both Peter and Fay give money to the Merola program, which works under the opera umbrella to develop young singers.  As a result, they get invited to things such as Monday's "do" and were able to score a ticket for me as well.  We sat in on a Master Class, at the Conservatory of Music.  Master classes are experts in various fields critiquing the students on their performances.  This was not my first, and some are more interesting to the novice than others.  This one was fascinating.  Warren Jones was charming(for the audience) and very encouraging (for the singers); you could see - and hear - the singers improving before your eyes!

Tuesday afternoon was devoted to the Museum of Modern Art, the first of four museums this trip.  Their show du jure was a Magritte retrospective.  Magritte has, never been one of my favourites.  I tagged onto a docent tour, though, and I found myself drawn in to his thinking.  Peter doesn't like tours - or even the wall descriptors - but personally, I need all the help I can get...

....I even like the inter-active bits....

Wednesday, I was off to the Legion of Honour,

....to see the Julian Schnabels on offer...

....as well as old favourites like the Burghers of Calais...

....and Bouguerea's The Broken Pitcher.

...and others.....

There was food, of course.  Here we are at a rather high-end Japanese place (Okana, I think, although I could be wrong) in the Hays Valley, near both my hotel and the opera.  As is usual in these places, the presentation was spectacular, and the taste not too bad either.

In between, when I had an hour or two, I tried to take in one or two of the "111 places you should see in San Francisco".  Below is 140 New Montgomery, now the home of Yelp, but its previous incarnation lovingly restored...

For all its highrises and crazy homeless people, downtown San Francisco has some wonderful bits, including lots of great public art...

And even where there isn't public art per se, there were green spaces with seating, open to the public, marked by signs such as this one...

They were mostly at ground level, but sometimes rooftop.  This is apparently required for all new buildings now, and a huge change from the development in Vancouver, which doesn't seem to provide much of either public art or public access.

Thursday, I walked downtown and spent some time at the Farmers' Market at the Ferry Terminal, before meeting friends Karen (left) and Suzanne (right) for dim sum at a very old school Cantonese place in the Avenues (which shall remain nameless, because, even though this is not the first time I have been there, I'll be damned if I can remember its name.

 
We all worked together at the bank in the 80's, with Hank.    It was good to see them both, of course, and to catch up, but it was bitter sweet.  The last time we had been there was with Hanklast year, not too long before his death.  I think it made all of us feel old (if our assorted aches and pains hadn't done that already).  Besides which, I should know better than to eat Chinese food anywhere but Vancouver.....

The evening's dining adventure was better, with Fay, Peter and I meeting up at Tapitas, for "nouvelle" Mexican, before going to a Wagner Choral Concert at the Taube Atrium Theater.  It was performed by the San Francisco Opera Chorus, which I love anyway, doing Wagner choral music from everything but the Ring.

 It was a lovely evening, but too short, something not said too often in the same sentence with Wagner!!!

Friday was my day for Golden Gate Park and the deYoung Museum.

For all the times I have been there, I have never gone up to the tower....

.......went up this time, though, and was rewarded by great views....

....and, of course, great art, old favourites.....

.....and two special exhibits, one called Weapons of Mass Seduction....

.....which included posters, fabrics, films and other ephemera from the 1910's through the 1940's. and one called Cult of the Machine: Precisionism and American Art.....

.....which I liked very much.

I should put a word in here for A Mano, an Italian restaurant which we actually went to twice during the course of the week (including Friday night, before Sigfried).  Two thumbs up, for location, service, and, of course, great Italian food.

Taking a breath of air during intermission, there was City Hall, all lit up, for, of course, Pride.

.....while we were at it, we tried to get someone to take our picture...

...not terribly successful, but I think it is the only opera shot that I have...

Saturday was packed, starting with an all-day seminar on - imagine - The Ring, including: musicology (we know Wagner is manipulating our emotions, but how?); political and social history (how the Wagner Societies all over the world, made up in some large part of Jews, helped finance Bayreuth, Wagner's anti-semitism, etc); a review of a number of Ring productions, including this one; and much more.  The conversation was lively, the lunch provided was actually quite good, as these things go - fascinating!

The evening provided a break from Wagner - the Merola singers (see explanation above) auditioned for the Director of the San Francisco Opera!  It took place in the opera house, the stage still set for the last scene in Die Walkurie, where Brunhilde is left sleeping in a ring of fire....

....minus the piano, of course....

I took the opportunity to take some pictures of the opera house, as one almost never has the opportunity to do so...

Again, a new musical experience for me - I had never seen these auditions before.  The singers were all young and enthusiastic (a surprising number of Asian candidates too, which Fay and Peter assure me is unusual), singing lots of arias with which I was not familiar.  I thought they were all terrific - personally, I couldn't have said no to any of them!!

Sunday morning, I was back at 111 places you should see in San Francisco.  Most of you know I lived in San Francisco I actually lived in the Haight for a time, but it was in the 80s, a bit too late for the summer of love and all of that.  I did have the poverty, though, and, oh, the cockroaches...  Anyway, gentrification seems to have missed the Haight.  It really is pretty tawdry.  I did get Janis Joplin's house....

.......Jimi Hendrix'.....

...and Jefferson Airplanes....  Thought of Hank, who, for all I know, made annual pilgrimages....

Sunday afternoon was the grand finale of the Ring, Gotterdammerung (mistranslated as Twilight of the Gods)....

.....ending with an extended standing ovation.  Obviously, a good time was had by all.  More on that at the end.

Because of the early curtains all week, our dining was pretty casual up to this point.  Since this was a matinee, however, Peter had booked us into Plaj for our almost final dinner...

It is a fancy Scandinavian place at Inn at the Opera, where we have eaten before.  It has been years, but it is still as lovely as ever, great atmosphere, great service, great food, great ending for the Ring.

Monday was the real grand finale, a "Rhine" cruise with the Wagner Society of Northern California, and friends.  In reality, we just went out on the Hornblower, an old San Francisco party ship, had lunch sailing out under the Golden Gate, and back.

...as you can see, it was a glorious day.  There's Peter, looking dapper as always..

...and below, Terry, the President of the Northern California Wagner Society, who had arranged the seminar and the cruise, and was rightly proud of herself...

..inevitably at these events there is a Walkure wannabe.....

.......here, we are coming around the back of Alcatraz..

...... this was another bitter sweet moment, reminding me as it did how often David and I did this route on our sailboat...

Never mind.  I still had some groupie stuff to do.  Here I am with Ronnita Miller, who played Erde in Rhinegold and Siegried....

.....  pretty terrific she was too (and not nearly as big as the costume made her look).

And, below, with Falk Struckmann, who played Albericht, one of the (many) villians....

.......who was a lot nicer than he appeared. 

The lunch was mediocre, but hey, none of us was there for the food.  It was just the perfect way to decompress, after an incredibly emotional week, with other crazy people who love Wagner, and, in particular, the Ring.

Peter and I weren't finished, though.  Although we hadn't made any plans, neither of us was quite unwound yet, and so arranged to have dinner at - how appropriate! - a German restaurant. Suppenkuche used to be one of Peter's favourites, but had fallen off his radar.  (They don't take reservations, and it is hard to manage that on performance evenings.)  However, we were in no rush on Monday, and, in the event, they weren't busy anyway, so we had one final blast of rehashing the Ring before saying our goodbyes.  (And yes, two thumbs up.)

I wasn't leaving till later in the afternoon on Tuesday, so decided to check out early, leave the bags at the inn, and head for the Asian Museum, the one biggie I had missed.  It is not my favourite museum - as I said, too cerebral for me - but even so, worth seeing.  They too had a special exhibit, called The Face of God, not to mention a newly renovated cafe.

Then, Uber to the airport for an uneventful trip home.

Finally, back to the Ring.  This was my 8th Ring, and, in my opinion, the best (not counting the quality of the sound in Bayreuth).  Greer Grimsley was our Wotan.  I have heard him before, but this was certainly the most moving performance.  Jamie Barton was Frika; she is a graduate of the Merola program (see above), and a local favourite.  The conductor was Donald Runnicles, and both he and the orchestra were in fine form.  Daniel Brenna was the Sigried.  This was his San Francisco Opera debut, and what he lacked musically, he made up in youthful enthusiasm, acting and emotion.  Most important, maybe, was the directing, by Francisca Zambello.  She was an assistant director when I was in San Francisco in the 80's.  I am always quick to blame the director when things so wrong; this time, let me be quick to praise.  This was certainly the most coherent, and the emotionally moving, Ring for me.

And a funny thing.  These operas keep on getting shorter and shorter.  I guess that's what happens when you don't want them to end.  Thanks for letting me relive this wonderful experience!  I'm already plotting to get back to Bayreuth in 2020 for the new Ring there....

Nothing so exciting coming up, but I promise to check in anyway...