I don't think I've ever seen the Gay Divorcee before today, and I know I've never heard Fred Astaire hiss out this exchange:
Egbert Fitzgerald: Guy, you're not pining for that girl!
Guy Holden: Pining? Men don't pine. Girls pine. Men just... suffer.
I feel you Fred, especially the way you say "suffer" with such feeling, and I am here to tell you girls can suffer too. I am suffering. I AM SUFFERING.
The effects of seeing the crowd at the opera last week haven't abated. I'm still heady from all the men in their finery. Don your vests and ties, gentlemen. Put on your plumage, peacocks. At one point last week I said to Friend Anne, "I would give myself right now to any man in a hat."
This week we went again to the pre-show picnic and again I experienced the Temptation Parade.
Amazingly, I saw Salmon Pants again in the lobby. He was wearing the pants but no matching bowtie. "Look, Salmon Pants!" I said to Anne. She replied, "Don't even think about it." But then later, after intermission, she nudged me and said, "Pst Pst Pst Salmon Pants," as he walked by to his seat.
(If anyone in the Saint Louis area knows Salmon Pants, have no fear. He just holds a special place in my heart as the first living man I have encountered for three plus years who isn't selling me a car. He's in no danger. And really, he is one of many, He's just the only one wearing distinctive pants.)
Perhaps all this suffering will wane after I get used to being out.