I saw my first opera, and, no, I’m not talking about What’s Opera, Doc, the classic Bugs Bunny Wagnerian opera spoof (“Kill the raaaaaaaabit! Kill the raaaaaaaaabit!”) created by Chuck Jones and included as one of only about 100 entries in the National Film Registry. I’m talking a real, live opera performance here, gang. Barritones, basses, tenors, sopranos, the works.

As I stood in the lobby of the Atlanta Civic Center, I froze in time, in space, in senses—or at least, in shock that I was even there on an innocent Sunday afternoon. It was at least two hours before the curtain was scheduled to lift on Fidelio, my first, and Beethoven’s only, opera. As I stood there, alone, I heard the strains of the orchestra warming up, running through scales. Beautiful, but vaguely familiar from other times in my life.

But then. Then. Those voices! “La, la, la, la, la, la laaaaaaa.” There was a chorus of voices, off somewhere in the back, in the distance, in the shadows of the hall, in their last private moments which are in reality not private at all, exposing themselves in all their rawness. I stood there, transfixed and in disbelief that it had taken me so long in life to find this.

Once in my seat, I leaned forward and didn’t know where to look first. The maestro in the pit flailed his arms while, unbeknownst to me, conducting his final performance with the Atlanta Opera after more than twenty years. The orchestra responded. Captions above the curtain translated the original German into English as the singers worked their way around the stark scaffolding depicting a timeless dungeon. And to me, this moment was timeless. And I was freed, finally, from having to wonder what it would be like to attend an opera.

Is this one of those “only in L.A.” things? There’s a company named Valley Clear Bra. Okay, it screams L.A. so far. Maybe some kind of Hollywood starlet plastic surgery thing. But then the one review of this company says, “The clear bra on my car looks fantastic!” Huh? I’m at a loss here, gang. Any ideas?

Just fell upon the Kudzu.com reviews of Los Angeles-based consumer, Aguarino. I feel way involved in this person’s life now. I found out how a guitar store consistently tries to rip Aguarino off (yet Aguarino keeps going back—I’m hoping he or she plays the guitar), that Aguarino is having some fertility issues (I’m pulling for ya’!), that Aguarino’s dentist is a jolly guy who likes to fly fish, and that Aguarino will actually wait up to two hours for a meal at a restaurant he or she likes. Even thought I don’t live in L.A., I like knowing Aguarino’s out there, telling it like it is. Power to the people. You go, Aguarino!

I’m thinking this is a typo. In a review on Kudzu.com for the Ultimate Chimney Sweep in Boston, bostoncaptain wrote:

“Out house has multiple chimneys and we like to have fires and thus we need the chimney cleaned once and a while.”

That’s some fancy out house!

C’mon. Be honest. You look at that photo and feel an overwhelming desire to do a cartwheel, don’t you? Clear out the coffee table or close the office door and let it rip. One, two three four, all in a row. Or not. But didn’t that feel good?