I always thought The Opera was too high-brow for me’”that it would be all crustless sandwiches, drinking with your pinky up, and polite behavior (you’re not allowed to say ‘œfuck’ at The Opera).  But then in high school my worldly, cultured friend’s parents took us to the San Francisco Opera. 

Despite gusty winds,  yesterday was a beautiful day.  Still, a bunch of us Mainers and a handful of Arkansans/Arkansanites/Arkansanivians  expressed guarded optimism,  the memory of past teaser days lingering.  Sure, 60 and sunny in January is no cause to lift expectations.   You take it at face value, maybe get a