Can't Wait for the Fat Lady to Sing!

Every family has an Aunt Sarah.  The names change, but the person remains the same.  My Aunt Sarah was a stolid, rotund woman with a tongue and wit so sharp she could skin you with a single line.  She was related to us on both my father and mother’s side.  Dad’s favorite brother, Marvin, had married Mom’s favorite cousin, Sarah, so they were frequent visitors at our house.  That is how I happened to witness the one time when an opera singer caused Aunt Sarah to be caught speechless.

            As I said, Aunt Sarah was rotund.  She was medium height but about as big around as she was tall.  My Uncle Marvin was a head shorter than his wife, and thin as a rail, so they had a, “Jack Sprat” quality to them.  Sarah liked spending Thanksgiving with us, and since she ruled the roost, we counted on them every year.  November of 1956 was special.  We finally had a television set.  Sarah and Marvin planned on staying the weekend.

            Sunday night the family gathered in the living room to watch the Ed Sullivan show.  Those were the days when a television was an icon and watching Ed Sullivan a ritual.  That night the usual Sullivan suspects included an opera singer.  Not just any opera singer, but a diva of the stage, the amazing coloratura, Joan Sutherland.  She was in fine voice that night.  I don’t have the faintest idea what she sang but it was high, wide and handsome.  Aunt Sarah was in heaven. Dad and Uncle Marvin were in hell.

            Dad followed his usual pattern of behavior to avoid trouble, he went to the kitchen to look for peanuts and jelly beans, but Uncle Marvin took the low road.  Quite out of character, but, probably thinking he had his brother to back him up, Marvin decided to start mimicking Ms. Sutherland.  He hammed it up through most of her first song, enduring dagger-like looks from Aunt Sarah.  But, when Ed asked Ms. Sutherland to do an encore, Marvin declared he had had enough and headed for bed.  Sarah was barely able to control herself during the brief reprise and then stomped to the guest room where her husband was getting ready for bed. 

            Squaring off against Uncle Marvin, who was standing before the mirror, all spindly legs and boxer shorts, Aunt Sarah made a ringing declaration, “If I had legs like that, I wouldn’t make fun of opera singers!”  Uncle Marvin gave her a defiant look and said, “If you had legs like this, you couldn’t stand up.”  

            Quite aside from the fun of watching Aunt Sarah angry, gaping and speechless, I discovered something wonderful that night.  Dame Sutherland had captured my imagination.  I’m sure at the time it must have been the beautiful dress and costumed hair and makeup that attracted my attention; but, then there was that voice.  It was strong and capable of amazing tricks and trills.  What is more, Ms. Sutherland seemed to be having a wonderful time.  Opera was calling to me.

            An inclination for opera is not a measure of ones musical skill or training.  I am living proof of that.  Not only am I ignorant of basic musical knowledge, but I lack even minimal ability.  Yet, I am a consumer of music, and opera is my food of choice. 

            Music does many things for many people.  It is like a rainbow; we each experience it in our own unique way, never the same for any two people.  Opera is a gourmet offering, not to everyone’s taste, but certainly worth tasting. 

            Turn up the volume and keep the faith.