A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

Well, not exactly opera, it was the symphony.

Was invited to go with friends to the San Antonio Symphony; extremely talented and dynamic conductor, Sebastian Lang-Lessing whom you see above pinning the oboe with his Do As I Tell You stare. In reality a charming and open man.

First half was Rachmaninoff’s # 2, which was great, but then second half was Bruckner’s # 6 and I thought I would die of sleepiness, boredom and the overwhelming desire to get up and walk around or find the bar and another glass of champagne. Jose and Janis were also fighting to stay alert and look fascinated, we were on the 3rd row from the orchestra. They had friends in the violin section.

It was one of the last at the old Majestic Theater. which is lavish to the point of cartoonishness but I love it, just love it. those balconies in the Star Wars Alhambra style are actually balconies. 

If you’re up there you can go to sleep during the endless repetitions of Bruckner or go ‘Oh God’ to yourself and nobody will see/hear. They are building a new venue, the Tobin Center, opening fall 2014, which I dread. It looks bare and industrial and a bit claustrophobic compared to the gorgeous and overdone old Majestic.

Ah Well. A wonderful night with Janis and Jose and afterwards off to Mi Tierra for a late dinner and stories from Jose about old San Antonio, the San Antonio of his youth, and all the truly remarkable people he knew — like the man who made all the tiles (by hand) which floor the County Courthouse, and the tiles in Mi Tierra. A great night.

At present writing the difficult scene where Marcy gets hit by a falling window.

Harvest time, the rain has arrived this week with long slow drizzles. Just got the sequel in to my agent. It’s the old Ben Hur plot combined with the Captains Courageous plot. that same depressing world that Nadia found herself stuck in, only Alan Reavis is from the top one percent. It’s not so bad up there. Until he gets thrown out. But he is quick and smart and learns to survive in the streets; task — rescue his brother.

It went a lot faster beause the dystopia had already been created.

Theodore Roosevelt and friends. 1905. He apparently feared nothing. Not even reading great weighty books full of dense print when on hunting trips. Or even losing his eyeglasses. Or dirt.