Here’s a few numbers from the day . . .
4 . . . The number of large diet cokes I drank today – which according to most nutritionists is 4 too many. And on this Earth Day, I regret the hefty contribution to the landfill that I made from the day’s beverages alone.
5 . . . The number of Metropolitan Opera broadcasts I got to enjoy (portions of) via Sirius XM, the fancy radio in our new car. As I drove to work I heard the final scene from a 1957 Il Trovatore broadcast that featured a lot of screaming and a final high note from Jean Madeira’s Azucena that sounded like a chicken being strangled (I take perverse pleasure in broadcasts from the so-called Golden Age of Opera that don’t sound all that Golden to me) . . . a 1998 Tales of Hoffmann that was hindered by the concrete-footed conducting of Simone Young (one of the few women to conduct at the Met) but distinguished by some superlative singing. . . a Makropolous Case broadcast which bored me to death and made me cringe at the thought that I made the Carthage Choir sit through a performance of this 20th century work by Leos Janacek at the Prague National Opera back in 2000, killing off any chance of any of them becoming opera fans . . . a 1970 Norma broadcast with Joan Sutherland and Marilyn Horne that was so amazing that I kept driving around just so I could hear the triumphant final measures of the big trio, complete with Dame Joan’s soaring high D (unnecessary driving on Earth Day is obviously a no-no, but this was absolutely irresistable). . . and finally, a 1985 Lohengrin that gave ample reminder of the sheer magnificence of Wagner, especially when sung by singers like Eva Marton and Leonie Rysanek.
6 . . . The number of people reading this blog entry who give a flying fig about most of the preceding paragraph. . .
6 . . . The number of singers that Amy, Lorian and I sent on to the Honors Recital final auditions on Monday. We were treated to a veritable feast of fine singing at today’s preliminary vocal auditions – and choosing a top six was not easy. And to think that three singers pulled out for various reasons before the auditions began. Had they been in the mix as well, we might still be there, hashing out our preferences! We did come to agreement, but even more important than the “winners” and “losers” was just the high level of accomplishment which these young singers displayed. And almost more than anything, we were blown away by the sheer fearlessness of their singing.
10 . . . The number of minutes I stood in line at the post office, waiting to be waited on. What was infuriating and astonishing is that for those ten minutes, the line did not move at all, even though four of the five registers were manned. Evidently, people were taking care of complex and time-consuming transactions. What took the edge off of my mounting frustration – and kept me from going postal, as they say – was when I realized that two of the four customers being served were sending a bunch of care packages to our troops in Iraq. Somehow, thinking of the plight of our soldiers a long long way from home made my inconvenience seem all the more insignificant.
15 . . . The number of singers I had at senior choir rehearsal . . . and man, did they sing well tonight! (It must have been because my wife and her two buddies, Val and Kate, weren’t sitting next to each other and getting into trouble. Just a theory. . . )
36 . . . The number of dresses on display in tonight’s final episode of “Project Runway.” And for the first time since the show began, the designer I liked most took the top prize. (Most of the time, the winning designer parades a dozen dresses that look like a bunch of normal dresses that were torn to shreds by a roomful of gorillas and then sown back together by a color blind seamstress with a nervous tremor. But tonight the winning designer was my favorite by a long shot. Not that I’m anxious for Kathy to run out and buy any of his things for herself- but on that runway, they looked incredible.)
144 . . . The high point of my pulse rate when I was on the treadmill at Razor Sharp tonight. The truth is that when I check my pulse, I really don’t have any idea at all of what that number should ideally be – but I’m pretty sure that at least part of the point of a workout like this is to get your heart pumping faster than it otherwise would. So I hope that 144 is decent for a flabby fifty-year-old who’s trying to be a little less flabby.
1820 . . . My score in the facebook game Pathwords. For quite some time now, I was a distant second to two of my Facebook friends, Matt and Joe. (Young punks.) I eventually managed to pull up to 1790, several weeks ago, but that 300 points separating us seemed as insurmountable a barrier as the Grand Canyon would be for someone on a skateboard. But this afternoon (right after the auditions, as a matter of fact) I found myself with a few spare minutes to kill – thanks to an ill student – and before I knew what had happened, I was staring at “1820” on the screen and wondering how the heck I’d done it. I am not about to crow about equalling my two students’ score, because that would make about as much sense as poking at a grizzly bear in the zoo with a long stick. I will do my best to play it cool and quiet, so those two prodigies don’t go out of their way to break our three-way tie.
20,001 . . . the number of registered hits on my blog as of 6:00 today. It’s nice to have gotten this far without being sued, getting fired, or (as far as I know) alienating any family or friends. All I can say is- God bless Polly and Mark for giving me this website as a birthday gift several years ago. . . God bless my wife for being patient with me on those nights when instead of coming to bed at a civilized hour I was chained to the laptop, typing out a blog entry about why American Idol makes my skin crawl (and God bless her for the wise counsel she has offered on occasion when I was about to post something that was perhaps a little too revealing or a little too frank) . . . God bless everyone who has found themselves written about in this blog, thanks to something interesting they have done or said or been . . . and God bless you for reading.
pictured above: This is the only photo of numbers that was handy in iPhoto. It’s a portion of an old menu hanging in the lobby of the Berghoff, my favorite restaurant in downtown Chicago. I forget how old this menu is, but the fact that the full dinners cost less than a dollar is a clue that this goes way way way back.