Plácido Domingo and Karma, Part II

(This story is originally from April 15, published now.)

Around 5:30 p.m. yesterday I was in the library checking my email and overheard two boys talking near me. One of them, Greg, I'd seen before in a couple of my politics classes.

"Yeah, I'm going to this opera thing tonight at the Wang Center," he was saying.
"Opera? Man," laughed the other guy. "Cool, I guess. Which?"

"It's Plácido Domingo," said Greg. "You know, the famous Spanish tenor. It's like his big pre-retirement-type tour. Only one night in concert in Boston."

"Wow," said the other guy.

"The soprano that's singing with him is like a distant relative of mine," said Greg. "We've never met though. Anyway, so my girlfriend and I are going."

I heard the words "Plácido Domingo", "Boston", "one night", and "pre-retirement". Without saying a word, I ran to a computer and googled the Wang Center. Voilá. Monday, April 14, 8 p.m. Somehow, through sheer ignorance or being busy, I had not heard about this. To miss it would be blasphemy. I still remember the Pavarotti concert I went to when I was 14, even though that was at the Fleet Center (a hockey rink), which in itself was a blasphemy -- to put Pavarotti in a sports arena! Yet that voice made up for it all.

But now Pavarotti is dead. And Domingo was my second favorite.

I didn't stay to listen more. I ran home. Threw on a dress and shoes. Tried calling the box office -- nothing. IMed my mother. Wrote a frantic email to my evening class instructor -- "I MUST try to get a ticket, I am so sorry, just found out about it now" -- and ran as fast as my heels would take me to the Red Line.

I managed to get to the Wang box office at exactly 6:33 p.m., and there was already a line forming. Some begging, a phone call to my mother, and $75 poorer, I nonetheless came into possession of one ticket in the balcony area. I would pay a lot to hear Plácido Domingo at a moment's notice. I was so proud of myself, and even prouder that I'd grabbed my binoculars on the way out.

The concert was fantastic. His rendition of Lamento di Federico left me with tears in my eyes, and I only wish that he hadn't sung the West Side Story pops stuff -- stick to opera, zarzuelas, maestro! The concert also featured a number of Spanish zarzuela numbers, some great duets with Domingo and Ana María Martínez, and more encores and standing ovations than I'd seen in a while.

I came out of the theater elated. I walked past all the Russian-speaking families, the Spanish ex-pats, the grey-haired season subscribers and the couples on pricey dates and I was just so happy to have heard some of the most beautiful music I'd heard in a long time.

Floating, I entered the train back to Tufts and came face-to-face with Greg, the guy from the library, and his girlfriend, a Puerto Rican freshman whom I know from Russian Circle (because she's learning Russian). This time, we all exchanged hello's -- "Oh, did you go to Plácido Domingo, too?"

I told them my story, how I overheard at the library and ran over and only after some begging did I get a ticket. Almost twisted my ankle, too -- no matter how much I try, stiletto heels aren't really meant for running. I didn't say that he was the guy I actually overheard a few hours earlier.

"Oh my god," said the guy. "We had an extra free ticket because the soprano is my godmother's stepdaughter. We were looking for someone to go, and nobody wanted to go."

"What?" I said. "They told me at the box office that there were barely any tickets left. I begged for this one."

"Yeah, we sat in the front," he said. "The entire row behind us was empty... I called all my friends, but nobody wanted to skip class! And it was free! I didn't know what to do with it!"

"Oh Rita," said the Puerto Rican girlfriend. "We have so much in common. I didn't think to call you."


Of course, I don't regret it for one second. The concert was worth every penny and if I had to pay $150, I'd have still gone.


But the moral of this story is had I opened my mouth when I overheard at the library, not only would I have heard Plácido Domingo but I would have sat in the front for free, been $75 richer, and made new friends. How's that for karma?