Is is OK to knit in a crowded Opera House?

I was very pleased to accompany my lovely daughter, Goonie, to the final dress rehearsal of La Traviata. Her mother was singin' in the chorus and Goonie likes to go to see productions that her mamma or daddy are performing in. Since she knew I was taking her to the opera she even dressed up in my favorite purple velvet dress. And it is traditional to enjoy fine dining before going to the opera so we went out to eat - at the local ma & pop diner. I mean, they make the best grilled cheese in Portland! We arrived at the opera house and made our way to the first balcony, row B. Ooooo, I thought, gonna be nice seats. They were! If we paid for that pair of seats for opening night they would have been well over $200! We settled in our seats and that was when I noticed that the lady sitting to my right was awfully fidgety. I didn't want to stare at her so I gave her the 'fish eye' and beheld a sight I've never seen before -- she was knitting! I thought, ok, that's a nice way to help make the time pass until the curtain rises. I fully figured the needles and yarn to be put away when the overture started. Nope. Kept right on knittin'! All - through - the - entire - opera! WTF!?!? Knitting is certainly not as bad as texting a friend with your phone, or being openly flatulent for that matter. But the constant fidgeting and elbowing was most distracting. Especially in Act II when Verdi just could not deem himself to move the plot along fast enough. I think because it was the final dress rehearsal and many of the tickets are 'comp' tics and are given to folks who do not usually attend the opera that someone gave it to a relative who figured the 3,000 seat cavernous theater was just as well as her own living room. Ok, then. I'm determined to pass some gas next time I'm at the opera.

Mozart Gives You Wings

I am tickled by the latest Red Bull commercial literally featuring the cat that ate the canary. We see the subject pussy smacking his lips and wiping the corners of his mouth, then flosses with a string like he's drying himself with a towel. After a brief moment to admire himself in the mirror he preens his whiskers and grins up at the open and empty birdcage. But what tickles me is the music accompanying the contented cat. Red bull has chosen Papageno's aria music from Mozart's Magic Flute. Red bull only included the music with no lyrics, so only those of us familiar with Papageno's opening aria knows that he sings about himself as the birdcatcher. "I am the birdcatcher, yes I am! Always merry, heisa, hop-sa-sa! ...I can be happy and funny for the birds are all mine!" Funny, Red Bull. Humor I can appreciate.