There Is One In Every Crowd

With the World Series behind us, Stewdog got a touch of "culthaa" last night, attending the Opera. Carmen to be exact. I don't want to give away the ending, but "it isn't over until the fat lady bleeds". I had never seen it before, and was amazed that it stole all those songs from commercials and even took the song from Gilligan's Island when Gilligan created a musical version of Hamlet, only to have it stolen by a producer who escaped the Island and made it a broadway hit (Neither a borrower, nor a lender be. . .do not forget. . stay out of debt).
But I digress. After the blood was wiped up from the stage and we all had to leave, I was down below the LA Music Center having a night cap. There suddenly was a fuss behind me, and a waiter was being castigated by a patron because others who arrived after his party was seated had already been served, but his group didn't even have a bite yet. We all know the type. . and. . yep. . the only political button I saw the entire night was on his shirt. . and it wasn't "Reelect Dubya".