Christmas Decorating, While Listening To "The Hours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

                      The holidays are fast approaching, and I told David this was the weekend we had to put up our decorations for Christmas.  Krampus was flying in from Florida--he hates the state governor--to spend the season with us, and Baby Gojira was so excited he got in his Christmas regalia to greet him. We even found a tiny candy-striped ribbon for little Pippin.

                     Which brings me to "The Hours."  Not the 2002 film which I loved, but the one at the Metrepolitan Opera, which, along with "Merrily We Roll Along," at the New York Theater Workshop, is one of two of the hottest tickets in town.

                      So, we rushed--and I mean rushed--through our morning chores, even getting up earlier on Saturday, which really ruffled Baby Gojira, so that we would be here in time to hear the opera's broadcast on WQXR.

                     Because of the cast, I was expecting it to be like the film--a haunting, transcendent exploration of the mysteries and miseries of life, as we journey to our truest selves.  Oh, my God, in the movie I so related to the torment of Julianne Moore as Laura Brown, because, like her, I had to walk away from suburbia, or I might have ended up contemplating the choice she did.  Hell, in 2008, I was hospitalized for such, but released rather quickly.  Two years later, I met David, and I found fulfillment.

                        So, I expected all this from the opera.  As the first notes of the score sounded, I could feel my heart beating with anticipation and excitement...but when the singing started, while the voices were exquisite, I could barely understand the lyrics of the female leads!  Ironically, the men and children were distinct, but not the main actresses who are the focal point of this work.  David and I were sorely disappointed, myself especially.

                          To combat this, while "The Hours" trilled in the background, we decorated our apartment.  Krampus arrived, Baby Gojira and Pippin had their Christmas regalia, the light display from childhood which I call the Henorah, is displayed in our bedroom window, my mother's white, ceramic tree adorns our living room table, decorated with lights, a nativity adorns the fireplace, as does, for the first time, a garland across the front of it.  Not to mention our front door is festive to all.

                         Now, David has to learn to make a Goya Coquito, but without whiskey, so we can have some holiday cheer.  No drinking in this house.

                          Maybe we should have drunk during "The Hours."  It might have helped.  I wonder, if at intermission, those in the audience flocked to the bar.  I bet!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                             Still, I am attempting to see a screening of it, this Wednesday, at the Union Square Theater on 14th Street.  If I am successful--maybe it improves if seen--I will give you a full report.

                             "The Hours" simply will not let me go, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!