Saturday, April 5, 2014
Opera Singers on Maiden Lane
If you're looking for front row seats to opera that costs less than a bottle of PBR at your local hipster pub, I have the in: Maiden Lane. Stop by on any given sunny afternoon and you'll find a husband and wife tag team that can croon Italian lyrics worthy of whatever award they give out to really good opera singers.
At the best of times and at the worst of times, I think of moving away from this city we call San Francisco. I wonder what I'm missing out on by not calling the streets of New York or Buenos Aires home. I feel like my long list of neurosis would do well in New York, for instance.
But then again if I moved away, where would I go for an hours-long opera performance that only costs a couple of dollars in a wicker basket for the privilege? I've lived many places but, for better or worse, I feel at home here.
I might know how to dress for any occasion, but considering my friends joke that they should start a Twitter called "Sh!t Leith Says" (thanks guys, I take that as a major compliment), it's safe to say I don't necessarily know how to act in any given situation. But that's ok, San Francisco loves me anyway. The rule here is, as long as you're weird and have at least $1,000 a month to spend on rent, you're welcome to stay. And if you're boring then just move to the Marina, already.
Groaning under the weight of an influx of tech-hungry entrepreneurs, San Francisco is undergoing a change that I'm, for the most part, happy to be part of. I knew this city in the '80s and I know it now, and I'm glad to see that it's continuing to be an outlier. It will never be the same as it once was, and it will never again look like it does now, but that's ok. I look forward to the days when I can tell my children about walking uphill both ways to the Muni to grab a milkshake at Super Duper and they'll be all, like, "What the hell is Super Duper?" and I can be all like, "Watch your damn mouths, kids!"
Anyway, San Francisco, I kinda love you. Don't let it get to your head, but you're great. Thank you for the cheap opera. And everything.