My Proud Introduction to the World of Opera (Sorry Pavarotti)

I have been described as spaced out, happy go lucky, and sometimes eccentric.  Suffice it to say, I am uninhibited, finding joy in little things.  Most recently, I was described as Pavarotti but I fear it was in jest.  My husband Bud and I, along with Cousin Ray were making a little trip.  It was a beautiful, sun-drenched day and my spirits were high.  Mid-morning, we stopped in a rest area.  While “resting” I admired the native stone used in its construction and noted the remarkable acoustics of the building.  I immediately channeled Pavarotti, bursting into an amazing rendition of “O Sole Mio.”  I sounded GOOD!  I waxed melodious for a few strains, till a confused lady walked in, interrupting my reverie, fearing she’d interrupted a insane, transgender opera drop out.  I excused myself and left her musing on the madness.

When we got back to our vehicle, Bud said he and Ray had had a good laugh.  When they were in the men’s room, they’d heard some man, somewhere, singing opera at the top of his lungs and it actually sounded pretty good.  Ray did remark the guy sounded happy.

I’ve never had a prouder moment.