Rob Ford

I haven't had much to say about the Mayor.  I've been against him since he promised to kill TransitCity--one time when the planners had actually got it right!--yet I can't help feeling sorry for him.  He doesn't seem to have the sense God gave a goose, as the saying goes.

Father and Moira are interested in the whole affair.  They've been watching the city council debates live on the computer. (Who watches the TV set any more?) Yesterday they even left it on during the big vote so they could listen to it over dinner, something I don't care for.

The other day someone I knew on Facebook posted on his wall, "You aren't a total loser unless you watch reality TV." I added the comment, "Or read magazines like Maxim." Before long I wrote another comment, "Or vote for Rob Ford a second time."

At tonight's opera rehearsal we prepared for Sunday's fundraiser concert, then staged some more of the first act.  There's a bit where the factory girls enter screaming, and we had a hard time getting it right.  The first time Carmen threw the flower into Don Jose's lap, it wouldn't come off her blouse.

This is about the time when I start to imagine the mini-character I'm playing in the chorus.  I think I'll be a veteran soldier who joined the guerrilla army fighting Napoleon while still a kid, and is now middle-aged and starting to feel indifferent about everything except watching and flirting with women.