papageno schweigt

how exactly does one padlock a mouth? A question for our director...

heilige tugend 2

Cold has descended on us. Leaves are blowing. We had a ladies' night.

We sang the 3 ladies of The Magic Flute, most of their choruses from both acts. I wreaked a little havoc by not remembering if I was Lady 1, 2 or 3.

Tonight we learned again that women are full of idle chatter, and that men's virtue lies in being firm and steady: not listening to women, and not speaking much themselves.

It must be silent in that temple.

fasten your seat belts

Good evening, mayhem fans!

Yes, it's true, last week I took a hiatus. You see, the world was doing such a good job of creating its own mayhem, I felt I needed to give the task over completely, and take the night off. There were blustery winds. The market was suddenly cancelled. Trees rustled ominously. I hunkered down.

But tonight I was back at it, along with the rest of the cast.

We rehearsed all the choruses. Sometimes we were a trio of ladies. Sometimes a trio of spirits. Sometimes a choir of priests. And sometimes, just sometimes, a voice from within.

The priests of course had important things to say. Namely: don't trust women. Don't trust women! That seems to be the bulk of their wisdom. Women are, of course, completely untrustworthy. It's a little hard to take, so we have plans, in our rendition, to make our women a little more feisty.

Once this wisdom is gained, and women have been resisted, we sang, earth becomes a paradise...earth becomes a paradise...earth becomes...

wings and feathers good, arms and legs bad

We are rounding up a real cast for the Magic Flute. Each week new people come! And along with them: new possibilities!

Our Doyenne of Song was taking advantage of this by having us sing in small ensembles, searching for possible lasting combinations. One of them she wanted to try out was the duet between Papagena and Papageno. 

"Remember, she is your dream fulfilled."

Our small Papageno took a look at our exuberant Papagena, dripping, sopping still, having come straight from swim practice, and scrunched his face up. She beamed. 

Some of us were a little timid about singing alone in front of the big group. (What, ME?!? Heavens no. Me, afraid of some of Pamina's high notes? OK, maybe...) Our leader gave us a pep talk, short and sweet, and possibly just slightly Orwellian: 

NO FEAR, HERE

ONLY CHEER

The real treat of the evening came right at the end: the men, singing the Spirits' trio. Men, take note! There's just nothing like your voices, in harmony. They had us all swooning. 

So, without further ado I will let you know that tonight was brought to you by the rhyme    

-ear...

papageno

"He's a man, but he's been hanging around birds so long, he looks like a bird." 

"So he's like a crazy cat lady, but with birds?"

heilige tugend

My, my, my, my, my.

I may have promised more than I can deliver!

In these sacred halls, tonight, there was no revenge - also no talking out of turn, pursuing of tangents, cracking of jokes, squabbling, or mayhem of any kind!

One hardly recognized us.

"Don't worry," our First Lady of Song assured me afterwards. "It's only the first class. They'll be misbehaving in no time."

In the meantime, tonight we accomplished an amazing feat: a Whirlwind Tour through the entire Magic Flute, with all the major arias and duets touched on, and pretty much all of the dialogue read.

We were treated to both of the Queen of the Night's arias, sung in full splendor by our uncontested Queen. We had a couple of different wonderful Papagenos. We are already envisioning him being covered in peacock feathers (donations of feathers, etc. are more than welcome).

And: we have a bass!

Friends, we are flush. Let's enjoy this moment.

* charade *

Good morning, friends!
It's a beautifully blustery one.

Why am I posting on a Thursday instead of a Wednesday? Because last night I was out having the perhaps once-in-a-lifetime treat of seeing one of my favorite movies on the big screen.

But next week the mayhem starts up again!

You will once again get to hear about Opera Scenes.
Better than any movie, this acting, singing, dancing class has got it all:

     - mystery
     - intrigue
     - conflict
     - comedy (lots and lots of comedy)
     - witty dialogue
     - lovable characters
     - happy endings

So come on along for the ride. Because, mesdames et messieurs, ici, l'attraction, c'est nous!
   

it's not over till...

There are easy days, and there are tough days.

Sometimes it's not clear why a day is one or the other.

It's not like people weren't perfectly nice to me, some even smiled when they saw me, some did me favors and said nice things to me.

And yet I was annoyed by the smallest things today. A man who kept yelling at me as I walked down the street. "Miss! Miss!" Persistent, rude.

A woman who tried to get me to do something, join her cause, a perfectly good cause, but one I did not at that moment want to join, and said something tactless, to which I answered something tactless back.

A disappearing bike lane.

Wegmans being out of Ben & Jerry's vanilla ice cream. And just out-and-out not carrying matches, the small ones anyway.

Is everyone in the world lighting their candles with lighters?

And then there were the small wonderful things. A friend's silly accent making me laugh. A kind voice on the phone in the middle of the day. Being reunited with my instrument after having it in the shop. Singing.

pinecones 2/we are here to help each other out 2

The pinecone game was back this week. My student strode right in and took them off the shelf and lined them up. Then she laid out the green ribbon. The game was to kick a pinecone across the green ribbon each time she did a fancy bowing. The fancy bowing happens six times in the song, so there are six pinecones.

She was still having some trouble remembering which part was which. Sometimes I'd give her a prompt, like "it's like the beginning again, but with a different ending". We got through it, and we were just sitting there assessing for a moment when she said, "We should tape a piece of paper to each pinecone, and write on it 'Beginning, 1st ending,' and stuff."

"Brilliant!" I said. "I'll get paper, you get tape."

We set to work. Soon each pinecone was labelled (have you ever tried to tape a piece of paper to a pinecone? Not as simple as it sounds). "PINECONE 1. Beginning with first ending," etc etc. We decided we probably shouldn't kick them, or the papers would fall off. "I can make a piece of paper that says "DONE!" and then as I play them you can take each pinecone and put it on the piece of paper," my student said. "Good idea," I said.

That was soon made, and we played through it again, this time with no prompts.

"You can use these with your other students to help them too," she said.

"Good idea," I said.

waiting

Good evening!

Where oh where, world, is my promised rainstorm?

You promised rain this morning, you promised rain at noon
But evening came and still no monsoon
Hither and thither I came, and whither I went
No boots did I need, nor jacket, nor tent
Not for miles, not for feet, meters or yards
All was as dry as the best mustards.
Oh when will it rain? When will it pour?
I'd better go out, walking, and tempt it some more...

a day of adventure

I borrowed a car today!

of pinecones and play

Today a student of mine and I were playing the pinecone game. I say "the pinecone game" but really that's not a helpful designation, because at any moment anything at all could become the pinecone game, and it could never be the same twice. It happened because we had been playing the bead game last week, but then I went and took home the beads (they were, it must be said, tiny, and in great danger of being lost). And there the pinecones were.

There they always are, because I pick them up on the way to work. I try to pass them by; sometimes I succeed. But invariably, after a few weeks of this, walking by and ignoring them, or telling them yes, I see you, yes you are beautiful but I have so many of you already!…I pick another one up and it's just so beautiful I have to take it with me.

So there is a pile of pinecones in my studio. Which is a good thing, because it means we can always play the pinecone game!

Anyway my student asked me, as we put them away, "do you ever wash your pinecones?"
"No, I've never even thought of washing them. Are they dirty?"
"Well if you haven't washed them, they must be dirty."

Can one wash pinecones? Should one wash pinecones?

Well, the pinecone game was fun. That and the fact that the world threw a microwave in my path right when I needed one, and that I got to sit in (stand in, really) on a few songs with some guitar-playing dudes at the market today ("What have you got in there?" "A viola." "Want to play? Open that case up, get it out!")…all these things, and more, make me a happy blogger tonight. 

So open that case up, whatever it is, get it out, and play!

band camp

Today, today was a big day.

Today, I made up a song for one of my students. I helped another one write down a song he was making up on his violin. I helped another one begin a piece by Bach which she has always loved.

I went to lunch with two friends.

I walked to work, and back; I walked all the way down Park Avenue, and back.

I saw a few fireflies, some dusky clouds, and lights in people's windows.

I met a baby goat named Justina. I had just enough money in my wallet to buy what I needed at the market.

And I started a bandcamp page.

I am happy.

a night in july

Now, with all this free time on Wednesday evenings, I can dedicate myself wholly to one of my favorite things:
walking.

It is a nice cool breezy night, a relief after the hot and humid days we've been having.

Strolling past lantern-lit porches and sidewalk tables, listening to the wind in the trees, making sure not to trip on rough bits of sidewalk (I insisted on wearing flip-flops, ones that are peeling at the bottom and get caught on things), I had time to ponder the imponderables:

Where are fireflies on cold, non-summer nights?
When will I sing next, and where?
Why do I hate one movie, and love another? (Especially when I can see how the making of one necessitates the making of the other…)
What's next?

Who knows. But it is a lovely mid-summer night, and I for one needed this lull.

Wishing you all peace and goodwill, wherever this may find you,
Margaret

from the brandywine to the genesee

I missed a Wednesday again! But with good reason this time, for I was ON THE ROAD.

And wouldn't you know it, mayhem was there too!

I have a message for everyone out there on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, Northeast Extension, etc etc: let's all SLOW THE HECK DOWN!

I mean, WHAT is the HURRY? And as long as we are all packed in tighter than sardines in work zones on those narrow little lanes between cement barriers, why go 70? Why not follow the advice of those good traffic signs and slow down to 45?

All right, enough.

I have seen the waters of Skaneateles. I have seen the mountains of the Poconos. I have seen the dells of the Brandywine. It sometimes gets a bad rap, but the state of Delaware was looking pretty beautiful today, with its rolling hills and forests and little creeks.

I returned with a new plant, and a cape. Because every hero should have a cape. Actually, it's not really a superhero kind of cape, it's more of an old-lady kind of cape, but, as my two aunts said to me, it's all in how you wear it. I'm planning some kind of Grace Kelly-Audrey Hepburn sortie. Perhaps I will wear it only on late-night walks, when only the wild bunnies can see me, but I'll wear it, I guarantee...

we are here to help each other out

Friends, I like continuity as much as the next person (ok, maybe more), so I was loving the fact that I had managed to post every Wednesday for the last few months. But yesterday… yesterday I tried to make myself post, I really did. I kept myself up, meanwhile slumping down more and more into the couch, until I was practically horizontal, and had to admit to myself that I was not going to post, that it was time to GO. TO. BED.

And so there was no Wednesday post. I awoke this morning to the garbage trucks roaring down the street and knew that it was no longer Wednesday, it was most definitely Thursday, and there was no going back.

But does this mean that the posts have to stop? Does one just throw in the towel because of one break in continuity? No, friends, one does not. Because: THE SHOW MUST GO ON.

The truth is, the mayhem yesterday was a bit much for me. There will be a time at which 6 young ones will realize that Mendelssohn's Nocturne from A Midsummer Night's Dream is one of the most beautiful things you could ever listen to or play, but sadly that time is not now. No, right now I think they are ready to throw it out the window. And perhaps me.

But there have been moments of beauty! And wonder! One of our students is very good at drawing, and as she sat, making "coloring pages" for all the other kids (pencil drawings to color in with crayons, paints, etc), one of them said, "How can you DRAW SO GOOD??" I think a certain strain of envy running through the class right then was expressed in that question, and it felt like it needed to be expressed. What did our student do? She took another sheet of paper and started to explain. "Well, you draw the head, and then the shoulders, and then here's one arm, and it bends like this, and the other one, you can't see it, you just see the hand, like this…" and the entire class was rapt.

It's moments like these.

art at every stage

la mayhème

It's Wednesday night. The farmer's market at the end of the street moved in, and moved back out…the library stayed open late…people are putting out their trash cans…everything is normal…except…

Where is the mayhem?

After our triumphant performance on Saturday, we are done for the year. So here I am on a Wednesday night, all by myself…

OK, not completely.

In fact, I was back at the school again, immersed in mayhem, this time of the French kind. We were putting together a string quartet.

"@!* what a bastard!"
"Who?"
"Ravel of course!"

Ah yes. The eternal struggle between composer and performer… but he is dead, and we are on stage, so I guess you could say we have the upper hand in this one. Tomorrow night. 7 pm. We hope to stir you, inspire you, move you…

We'd love to have you. Clap on any beat you want.

we have lift-off!

Friends, I have been living in a delusion. I thought I wrote this every week in a vacuum, in a sort of blissfully alternate, satellite blogoverse, and no one ever read it, so I could say and write and draw anything I wanted and no one would be the wiser…NOT SO!

Friends, I HAVE A READER!

Our Choreographer strode into class this evening, kicked off her flip-flops, and announced that she was ready to re-teach us the dance.

"Because clearly you forgot all of it."
"!"
"?"
"We did not!"

"Yes you did! I know you did! I read your blog!"

Well! If I had known that what I wrote here was going to be read and believed, then I would have written about something I actually know something about. Climbing trees. Navigating European cities. Cooking little pellets of biscuits out of nothing but flour, water, sugar, salt, baking powder and maybe a little cream (by the way, I was almost late to class because I'd bought cookies from this bakery at the farmers' market and I HAD to stop by on my way to tell the woman who sold them to me that they were some of the best I'd had in my life…)

Of course, I jest. All that I say here is true, true, did happen, though it may be exaggerated a bit. But that is my wont.

We began class with a little giggle because one of us had invited this charming creature to join us. Actually, it was more of a scream of laughter, and we had the distinct feeling that he was making fun of us when he imitated all of us laughing. Did we really sound like that?

"Say something."
"Hi."
"HI?? That's the most boring thing you could say!"
"OK, fine, hallo, du möchtest, ich sage der Katze etwas?"
To my surprise, the little cat repeated this perfectly.

"It speaks German?"
"It's not an it, it's a HE!"
"Do you think we could get it to speak Czech?"

*******

Performance time is finally upon us. We grace the stage this weekend. And after that -

What will I do with this space? With what topics will I fill this now weekly column? Interviews with the geese that overrun the school (and sully the parking lot - ew, ew) every July? Cooking tips? Suggestions are welcome, though there's no guarantee they will be regarded.

So long for now, y'all. It's been real.

hard times

Performance time approaches, and this rabble was in sore need of rousing. But it was an uphill battle much of the time. Some of us, including yours truly, were just plain late. All of us had to go to the bathroom at some time or other (but never the same time). All of us had to get drinks of water, etc etc…and one of us got caught in a rainstorm on the way over and had to duck under cover and wait for it to pass (he may or may not have heard a faith-shaking story about the extremes of humanity during this time). All in all, we had many needs, and they all had to be met, and at different times.

This made getting things together a difficult task. To make it even more difficult, our Choreographer was not there. The reluctant sous-Choreographer had to step in.

"I think you were over there, and then I was lying here, and she was dead, but she's not here so we have to pretend…"
"Did you have a horn?"
"Yeah, I had a horn, I think we all had horns..."
"Well he's Gabriel so he's got to have a horn."
"I want one of those toy horns, you know, one of those toy horns…"

"And then we defrost her with a huge hairdryer. I'll bring the hairdryer. I mean, I don't have one, but I'll make one…"

We'd thought about defrosting our nuns using some paper flames I made for another performance, but, as someone pointed out, we just wanted to defrost them, not actually cook them. After all, we didn't want Filet Mig-nun. Ba-dum-ching!

That was officially the best joke of our whole time, so far. And not, I admit, mine!

Anyway, I did my best rehearsing our dance but I think if our Choreographer does not return we will have to bring in the big guns. I suggest inviting this Guest Star.

In the meantime, I'd like to give a shout-out to Dan Goggin, wherever you are. You have a truly unique, awe-inspiring way with words. Who else could write the line "we must comply or face a fine" and have it crack me up every time?

I'd also like to give a quick salute to this ice cream - this may seem SLIGHTLY off-topic but it is what's in my freezer, after all, and I'd like you all to run out and buy it (but only when it's on sale!) because the last time I fell in love with an ice cream flavor it was all of a sudden discontinued at Wegmans and even though your correspondent visited several different stores trying to find it and then finally wrote a comment card and got a highly unsympathetic call from a heart-of-stone customer service agent who said, basically, "No one else liked it," she cannot believe that no one else liked it, they must have just forgotten to buy it for a few months and then Wegmans got the silly idea to take it off the shelves. So you see, you must not let this happen again! And with this admonishment, EAT MORE ICE CREAM, I leave you, dear friends.

bottoms up!

Anyone within a 5-mile radius knew what we were doing tonight. Birds fled the trees. Chipmunks found their holes. Children begged to sleep with their parents. Because we were CHOREOGRAPHING!

Look out, kids! Look out, world! Look out, cello sitting at the side of the room. This woman is choreographing and ain't nothin gonna stop her. Ain't no old rug corner gonna trip her. She's going to act, and sing, and do the splits, and teach us the jazz square, and be a dead nun, and a live nun, and anything you need...Oh yes, today was the Debut of a Brand-New Choreographing Sensation! Write it down, people. You'll want to remember.

It was also the debut of yours truly as sous-Choreographer. A role I really just fell into, and didn't really deserve, since I was constantly misbehaving and talking and not paying attention. But we will try harder in the future  :)

Now we did have one audience member, one brave bit of wildlife that stuck around for the show, and he very generously allowed his image to be used here:

There was some opposition to his presence, and he was lovingly and carefully relocated, but it has to be said, so it might as well be said here, that we have probably had less attentive audiences.

All that remains is for me to let you know that today's blog post was brought to you by the letter B: for balloon, banshee, and The Girl with the Broken Bum. Look for it soon in bookstores everywhere. 

die speisen werde ich nicht verschmähen

Ok, guys, where are you? Shadowing Idina Menzel? Fording the rivers of Pennsylvania? Or did you see my new nail polish color, notice you weren't wearing that color, and decide to turn back because everybody else was, and we would clash? Don't worry! Everything goes with purple!

We were a lean, mean trio again this week. Which means that we got through a lot of stuff.

Trio from The Magic Flute? Yeah!
"Story of my Life" from Shrek? Yeah!
"A Heart Full of Love"? You bet!
"A Little Fall of Rain"? Can't hurt me now!
"First Time in Forever"? …oh wait. Here comes Marius, back from the bathroom.

We took turns being Eponine again. Everybody likes Eponine. She gets to be noble. She gets to sing really cool low notes, and she gets to die a beautiful, self-sacrificing death. She also gets the best vocal warm-ups.

We got a chance to delve into the nitty-gritty details of German pronunciation.
"It's i - E! and e - I!"
"Oh! so it's 'dye spyzen'"
"No, no, 'deeeee shpyzen', and you have to shove an h in there too after the s…"
This is not the first time this confusion has arisen.

And there was even time for some real, true, honest-to-goodness philosophizing.
"I was learning life lessons!"
"From whom?"
"From what else? Life!"
"Life is the worst teacher. It gives you the test before it teaches you how to do it!"
"Yeah. And you never know what you did wrong."

Well here's to you, Life. You may not have the pedagogy all down, but you sure have some fascinating, mind-blowing, beautiful, tragic, huge things to teach. Even if I did topple off a wall, even if they did break my wand, banish me from the kingdom….. count me in.

thoughts...everywhere...

I am happy to say that our numbers swelled back up this week.

And so, correspondingly, did the ruckus. 

The result of which is that your correspondent, sitting on her couch, eating raw broccoli and pistachios - as one does - is having difficulty condensing two thrilling, fun-filled, event-packed hours into one small and modest post. 

One of our number expressed it best I think when, after pausing briefly to catch breath, she managed: "Sorry…thoughts…everywhere…" Shortly after which she fell off her chair. So you see what I mean. 

There was our ethereal soundscape of a scale (some have likened it to the sound of a choir of drunken monks). 5 independent voices, utterly untethered by the confines of tonality, forging utterly new paths. "Do"? Where we're going, we don't need "do"…

There was a brief discussion on whether or not it would be cool to be able to sing 2 notes at a time. 

"It would be cool!"

"No. Not cool. That's a disease. I never want to get it."

"But it would be cool!"

"Once after I was sick I had it for 2 weeks. It was not cool."

"Did you get it from singing Wagner?"

"No, it wasn't Wagner, it was a virus, and it was NOT COOL!"

"…I still think it would be cool…"

There was the general consensus that pigs do belong in condos 

(that is, if they are going to live in houses at all) and that if they are going to have German accents, they should start with them, and not adopt them mid-song. I mean, vat ees up vis zat? 

It's just not very Gesamtkunstwerk. 

Vishing you a very heppy Wagner's birsday, and a lovely week, until next time!

olympia

wallburga

Well, folks, we were only 3 again this week. What is it? Where have our friends gone? If they promise to come back, I will promise not to make quinoa jokes anymore. Or Candy Crush jokes.

OK, maybe not for a couple of weeks, at least.

A big treat this week was hearing one of our number sing one of my Favorite Arias I Never Knew the Name Of: Ebben! Ne andro lontana (Fine! I'm leaving!) from La Wally by Alfredo Catalani. First of all: yes, "La Wally". Our heroine is named Wally, which I find rather endearing, especially considering this was 1892.
"Wally?"
"It's short for Wallburga."
"Ah."

Next we had the Discovery of Fred the Ratchet Fish.

Yes, Fred just Appeared in our midst, and that next to him is a dowel-stick bow, made for a Suzuki box violin. Why did Fred join us? you ask. And why is his name Fred? 

Well, children, long long ago (exactly one week ago) one of our group was singing the doll aria from Les contes d'Hoffmann and your faithful correspondent was put in charge of winding her back up when she had run down…but we didn't have anything to make the right sound when the winding was being done. 

Lo and behold, this week, there Fred was, slyly waiting by the piano! With the perfect sound, and that cute gaping mouth, and slightly stunned look to boot. Universe: 1. Us: 1. Win-win.

And why is his name Fred? 

That, my friends, must wait for another time…

So, come back, singers, come back! Because "We've Got to Clean out the Freezer"…and we can't do it without you!

a heart full of… what?

Our numbers had dwindled down this week. Were people stunned by the sudden outburst of spring? Getting in line early for their favorite beef jerky stand at the Lilac Festival? Who knows. But we had just enough personnel to sing some trios from Les Misérables.

Your correspondent, though she finds it hard in some circles to admit this, has not always appreciated Les Mis. This can be blamed in part on her childhood best friend, who after her NKOTB phase launched straightaway, without pause for breath, into a Les Mis phase, in which only this soundtrack graced her tape player (yes, tape player. I am that old). I, for my part, dreamed of a world *without* a "Castle on a Cloud".

Now this crusty curmudgeon has had her heart softened (maybe even melted!), by what we're not quite sure (perhaps someone wanted to bake with it?) (ew), and can enjoy hitherto unknown delights such as Love at First Sight, Unrequited Love, and Selfless Self-Sacrifice. Ok, that last one she knew something about before. But anyway, all this makes musicals like Les Mis much more enjoyable!

Our valiant Marius had to put up with 2 Cosettes, 2 Eponines, and they kept switching. Not to mention all that French, and the changing words… a heart full of you…oh crap, love…

We also enjoyed a performance of the doll song from Les Contes d'Hoffmann. "What do dolls sing about?" I wondered. Turns out, same as everyone else. Love, love, love. But this thought got me thinking…do androids dream of electric sheep? etc… what if Rutger Hauer were to sing "A Little Fall of Rain"…?

Oh, and I almost forgot this.

Good night, my sweet ones, good night.

no mayhem this week

Sorely missing her compatriots/co-conspirators, yours truly is reduced to listening to transcriptions of the overture to The Magic Flute and La Valse for piano four-hands on the radio. Alas! Alack!

Having found herself this week repeatedly humming sections of Hansel and Gretel (O Gretel! I wish…) … (with your fingers you click-click-click) … (for dearly do I love them) yours truly is also living in deathly fear of waking up singing the role of The Mother. So far she has only come out with lovely melodic parts of the opera, but who knows? Extreme atonal leaps could be next.

This has also been on my mind, thanks to one of the more exuberant members of our group, who, when we were singing one of the songs, could not stop quoting it. I thought I'd share it here so we could all join in the laughs.

Wishing our Doyenne of Song a speedy recovery and looking forward to seeing y'all again next week!

"squirrel"

Episode One
in which we discover where we are going, and why we are in this handbasket

The singers draw together. One of them is wearing a very fetching black and white patterned blouse, another a beautiful blouse with splashes of color and sparkly beads. Another is eating dinner. With gusto, although not quite sure what she is eating - "What is this?" "Couscous." answers one of her fellow singers. "No" -- looking closer -- "It's quinoa. Quinoa." "What's quinoa?" "It's a grain. It's really good for you." "Oh, ok." "Where did you get it? Did your mom make it?" "Well, I assume so!"

We're learning a trio from Mozart's Magic Flute today. We are the three spirits, guiding and encouraging Tamino and Papageno through the series of trials set up by Sarastro and his cronies. "Hey, Sarastro!" one of us suddenly interjects. "He's the guy I want killed!"

 It takes us a moment to connect one of her previous performances as the Queen of the Night with this comment. But yes! He is the guy that she wants killed. "But why?" one of us wants to know. "They used to be married. The spark has faded." "Yeah, and when the spark fades, there's not much else you can do…but lots of ways to do it...knifing, burying alive, poisoning…" "Also," the Queen of the Night adds, "she wants her daughter to do it." Our original questioner wonders, "Why couldn't she just live with dad and be done with it?"
"Yeah, where was Judge Judy? There are better ways to handle this situation…"

At one point we have to stop to clarify some of the German. "Euch," someone says. "Euch. It's like an angry cat."
"German is funny!"
"I bet the Germans think English is funny."
"They do!"
"Are there any words that are normal in English but sound funny in German?"
"Well, Johnny Depp's last name means idiot in German. So they think it's pretty funny that he would change his name to idiot."
"Oh!!! There's a YouTube video, with Germans trying to say "squirrel"…"

Finally, amidst the mayhem, one of us asks pointedly, "where are we?"
"Oh," says our fearless leader darkly, "Dante wrote a whole book about it…"