Opera

Tracey and I went to the Opera last thursday. The Metropolitan Opera in New York City to be specific. She "yoinked" her parents season tickets to transport me to this cultural event...The show was remarkable in the dramatic flair and depth of emotion which only operatic Italian can convey. The individual subtitle holders weren't as difficult to follow manuevering expertly as I did with the adorable binoculars Tracey carted for me in her voluminous bag--along with a full bottle of water and Burt's Bees Lip Balm.

The BATHROOMS in Lincoln Center's Opera House is majestic. There is this tiny piano-looking pedal that flushes the royal toilets. Go figure.

In typical Sweet fashion, I ran us late at dinner and we missed the first act of La Traviata. We dined at HavanaNY with my boy prior to the show. We were scheduled go to Plaintain but it's non-existence led us to alternative Cuban on the very same block. It was so much to Tracey's liking that she created her own paper-napkin goodie bag for the sole plantain that remained uneaten on her catfish plate. That's my Tracey Lord--she'll take me to the Opera in skinny jeans and fleece-lined boots with a bag full of goodies including freshly packed Krispy Kreme doghnuts and plantains.