Have you ever seen a mirage? Something you felt was a sure thing with tactile surfaces and substance only to watch it evaporate? I ran into one of our own last night and was pleasantly surprised given nobody has seen him in months! We sat at the bar (surprise) and caught up with missed “rules committee” meetings although I spared him the minutia normally associated with these little soirees’ and cut to the chase. Interestingly enough there was very little substance but hoped he appreciated the gesture. I asked where the hell he’d been which caused him to change his demeanor and immediately became serious. He confessed a horrific story but swore me to secrecy. This is generally not a good idea as my responsibility to this forum supersedes any promise of keeping lids in place.
Before I move into the meat of the story, I’d like to post this disclaimer: The following story contains graphic language and adult themes; readers sensitive to such are advised to log off now. Should you choose to read on, you do so at your own risk.
This curmudgeon like many of us fancies himself an aficionado of the ‘classics’ and maintains he’s the last of the Renaissance Men. While I have no problem believing this, however I know only of one thing he does well and had already demonstrated his talent by farting “Yankee Doodle” at the bar. He says the older he gets the pursuit of his passion has taken on a sense of urgency so he travels the country to hear everything from Rachmaninoff to George Gershwin. He is now rushing to see as many classic operas as possible and has what I can only describe as a ‘bucket list’ with each entry prioritized according to historical significance.
Our associate finally took a knee to the groin though. In a film production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni in San Francisco our good friend became smitten with Edda Moser who played one of the lead characters ‘Donna Anna.’ Evidently Edda is an accomplished soprano and our associate put taking her to bed atop his ‘bucket list’ postponing the other performances. Our adventurer further confided that he’s been involved in a campaign of letter writing, phone calls, Fed X, and a standing offer of $5,000.00 to simply enjoy a dinner together. To date, all efforts have gone without reply. I had no idea, but according to our heart broken friend, even opera singers have ‘groupies.’ I suppose from her standpoint it’s just best not to encourage anyone!
Our committee member was discouraged but not yet ready to give it up and pressed on. Ms Moser lives in a ‘gated’ community in Westchester County, New York and is married to a heart surgeon so she lives quite well. Undaunted, he continued his quest by moving into a nearby Motel 6 that had weekly rates and plastic sheets. He planned to accidentally bump into her creating an opportunity to introduce himself. Unfortunately by the time he discovered her routines she’d spotted him enough times to be convinced he was stalking her. Before he could execute his plan the police were summoned and our well intentioned ‘Dickhead’ was taken in for questioning. There’s now a restraining order in place and was forced to leave the county. Our boy’s family has rotating shifts to keep an eye on him.
It was good to see my old friend but he’s quickly losing what’s left of his feeble brain and seems to lack discernment of right from wrong. I understand the idea of chasing a dream only to see it obliterated, but to actually stalk someone who obviously has no interest what-so-ever seems a bit demented to me.
Please join me in a moment of silence for this poor son of a bitch.