But one type of live venue had eluded us until now...opera.
I'm not sure I could do a complete opera, you know, where they sing the entire story line. In a foreign language. That would be weird and I probably wouldn't understand. Unless I was on mushrooms.
But in lieu of that happening anytime soon, my lovely wife and I just saw Andrea Bocelli at the Golden One Center in Sacramento. It was a bucket list sort of thing, and came about rather serendipitously as bucket list things seem to do for us.
When we heard he was coming to a town near us, I immediately looked for tickets. At this stage of our game we're not nose bleed section folks anymore. We never really were, but now if we're gonna do a show we want pretty good seats. Which for Bocelli cost a small fortune. So it was, like, well, maybe not.
And about that same time on a Sunday afternoon in January a Bocelli special appeared on our local PBS station. And in-between Bocelli tunes they proceeded to offer a special price for floor seats for the upcoming Sacramento show. Sacr'e Bleu!
Apparently in every city he appears he donates some tickets to the local PBS affiliate. They get to make some money and we got to pay less than we would have. Plus we get to write off a portion of the cost. Whoopee!
I also booked us a room at the Sterling Hotel, a Victorian B&B nine blocks from the venue. At this stage of our game I'm not fond of driving an hour after a show to get home. Plus venue traffic. Plus parking. I'd rather walk. Or shoot myself.
At $200 per night the Sterling was the least expensive nice hotel in the area. There's a Hyatt and Sheraton also very close by, but their rooms were running twice what we paid.
The Sterling did not disappoint, it was old and antique-y. Our room had a nice king bed, a double jacuzzi tub and a bright, effervescent green arm chair that belonged in a St. Patrick's Day parade rather than a Victorian bedroom. My lovely wife thought the decorator might have been decorating like she had spent the entire day celebrating at a St. Patrick's Day parade. Too.
The serve yourself continental breakfast Sunday morning left a bit to be desired, I've seen better at a Comfort Inn. But the location for the price could simply not be beat.
We checked in around 3:00 PM and then went on a recon mission stroll to the Golden One, just in case we had to walk to or from later. We did our stroll, also checking for potential eatery's.
I actually started the dinner hunt the previous Wednesday, but that was apparently too late for this country bumpkin to make a connection ANYWHERE within a few light years of the Golden One. We could eat at 4:30 or 8:00 PM. Everything in-between was booked. Gee, I wonder why?
We found a couple potentials, then proceeded to get an iced coffee and stroll the California state capitol grounds, which were only a couple blocks away. It had been a while since we'd been to downtown Sacramento, we're usually blazing through on our way anywhere but Sacramento.
The expansive grounds wrap the capital building and are several blocks long and wide. They are quite lovely and have an extensive collection of large, heritage trees dotting the lawn. There's also a pretty decent rose garden at the east end, which, of course, we had to stroll. We just made it too, one of about a half dozen weddings happening that afternoon was just amping up as we strolled in.
Our appointed 5:00 dinner time came, and rather than back track about six blocks to the BBQ joint we had been considering, we slipped into the Sheraton and each had a salad. How healthy could we be? Then we went back to our room for a brief rest and then to get dressed.
Now I know some folks won't even get dressed up to die, that's screamingly apparent to me now. I've bitched about this before. You're dining in a formal restaurant and some tool is in there wearing cargo shorts and a Tshirt.
I am fortunate. My lovely wife is always appropriately dressed. It's going to say so on her head stone. And because she is I have also become. And half the time she buys the clothes, which makes it really easy for my. Plus she has really great taste. I don't ever have to worry about wearing something with sequins and pastel unicorns on it.
ZZ Top called it way back when , "Women go crazy about a Sharp Dressed Man." I mean, who's more likely to get lucky-A guy dressed up in a suit or some tool wearing cargo shorts, long socks and orthotics?
Even the cheap seats weren't very cheap for this show, nevertheless there were a number of guys in shorts. Fortunately, most folks got it and the majority were trying their finery. And there were many couples dressed like we were, sport coat and slacks for the gents and dresses, gowns and some bling bling for the ladies.
I mean, the artist and entire orchestra were preforming in tuxedos. It wasn't a summertime Jimmy Buffet show.
We took a Lyft to the show, arriving about 7:30, which was the exact same time that everyone else arrived. It was a complete and utter cluster fuck to say the least to get through the security. Which apparently is the case at the Golden One no matter the event we later discovered. (Make a note of that!)
And there we were, smack dab in the middle of a wild horde of several thousand opera buffs. Everyone attired in all their finery, except for, well, you know, as we patiently and silently clamored to get in the gate. No one can ever say opera buffs aren't civilized. The show started thirty minutes late because of the civilized crush.
After we got in, I ordered a $6.00 bottle of water for me and a $38.00 Ketel One for my lovely wife. Vodka was a hell of a lot cheaper when we used to smuggle it in to concerts inside a watermelon. But once again, this wasn't an outdoor summertime Jimmy Buffet show. The folks at Golden One might have been a bit suspicious if we tried to bring a watermelon in to an opera show.
While not dressed in shorts.
Once drinks were in tow, we ambled down to our floor seats, towards the rear but near the middle of the room. The acoustics were phenomenal.
About five minutes before showtime the orchestra and chorus entered the stage. We were originally thinking Andrea had about a five bus massive entourage, but then we discovered it was the Sacramento Philharmonic and Opera. Some of them probably ride bikes to work.
I'm not tremendously knowledgeable about orchestras and what not, but these guys sure seemed pretty darn good to me. I'd let them back me up anyday. They warmed up with a tune, and then the conductor escorted the blind tenor from the stage stairs to the microphone.
Bocelli sang two tunes, then took a break while a female opera singer, Larisa Martinez took the stage and belted out a tune. Then she escorted him back onstage for a couple of duets. Then he took another one song break and so on. He only sang six tunes the first half of the show, but it was still pretty amazing. Apparently he has to treat his vocal chords very carefully. And considering some of the impossible notes he hits, I understand.
All the songs of his first set were sung in a foreign tongue, probably Italian, because that's the opera language. Or so I'm told. I didn't understand the any of the lyrics because the only Italian words I know are food. Spaghetti. Lasagna. Ravioli. I think he was singing about love, or loss, and probably not dinner.
Never did I hear him utter the word, "Gelato".
I know why venues only serve drinks in plastic for sporting events and rowdy rock shows. It's totally so the besotted or otherwise can't lob weapons of inebriation towards the entertainer or other patrons. Not so with this civilized crowd. No one present, no matter how sloshed, would ever consider something as gauche as tossing a bottle or glass, even if it was going into the garbage. The reason they don't serve refreshments in glass at a Bocelli concert is that they would shatter when he hits those long, impossibly sustained high notes. My goose bumps had goose bumps.
Kevin Costner once said that Whitney Houston was a "still" singer. He said her voice was so powerful that she didn't need to do anything other than just stand there and sing. I've seen that with many of the great guitarists; Clapton, Garcia, Betts, Harrison. They just stood there and played.
Bocelli didn't even move his arms.
He took a thirty minute break, and then the second set had a few more recognizable tunes. One was even in English. He also had a few more guest artists. He brought out a guest fiddler, Caroline Campbell, and wow. Besides being quite a looker, that girl can play some violin.
There was also another blond singer, Pia Toscana, who, besides being another looker had an astounding voice. Apparently she was a finalist on American Idol in 2011. The guy that won that year is some country singer named Scott McCreery. I'll bet he's never going to be asked to sing a duet with Bocelli.
There was also a male and female dance duet, and they spun Flamenco style to a couple tunes. One in particular led many in the audience, at least my lovely wife and I, to believe that the female had to have had a really good recent wax job in her princess region, if you know what I mean. Her very tight fitting, almost not there leotard underneath her flashy dress left little to the imagination.
We have experienced quite a few transcendent moments at shows over the years. You know, when the artist plays that one song you really love and completely nails it. Opens up the heart chakra and the energy just explodes?
One for me that has withstood the test of time was Clapton's screaming guitar solo right after Bobby Whitlock's inspired piano fusillade on "Let it Rain". When Eric hit those notes I think half the audience in the Cow Palace (in San Francisco-circa 1975) was ten feet off the ground. Could have been the acid, but I don't think so.
Bocelli did it again for me the other night. And I know it wasn't acid this time. This is also one of his most well known tunes and he appropriately closed the show with it, "Time To Say Good-Bye".
It was a mess getting out of there for most folks. There were lines twenty deep just to get cars out of any of the many parking garages that were close by. We strolled the nine blocks home.
Good thing I wasn't in shorts and a T-shirt. The delta breeze came in after the sun set and made the outdoor atmosphere rather windy and chilly. My sport coat ended up on my lovely wife's shoulders, right where it should have been. Brrr.
The next day, Father's Day, after a very leisurely morning and cheap continental breakfast, we went to Old Town Sacramento. It had probably been a couple decades (or more) since we last strolled them streets. There's over a hundred shops and eateries there and it's right on the riverfront, a pretty decent tourist destination. So we played tourist for a couple hours.
At noon we drove the quarter mile over the bridge spanning the Sacramento River and met our son and fiancé at Raley's Field for a River Cat AAA baseball game. He bought us some great seats behind home plate, but without the benefit of any breeze whatsoever it was probably over a hundred degrees.
We'd sit for a couple innings, then run up to the concourse where there was a breeze and shade. And food and drink. Then we'd go back down, sit, bake, retreat, repeat. We did that a couple times, then just stayed up in the shade. It was an easy fifteen degrees cooler.
We left at the top of the ninth, behind 1-0. The Alamar Marina Restaurant and Bar on the Sacramento River was calling us for an early dinner and cool down.
It was a weekend that ranks right up there with the all time best. World class entertainment followed by time spent with world class family. Can't get much better that that.
