All of the sacrifices we made bought nothing but a black marble wall in Washington.

The poster for the film of Dalton Trumbo's brilliant anti-war novel

My friend Brenda pointed me to this article and after reading it I decided to share it with you. It’s not the best-written piece in the world, and there is at least one glaring typo, but the sentiment, especially when you consider who wrote it, is strong and important.

Years ago my mentor Stephen taught me that we choose virtually everything that happens to us, except for accidents. We have wars because we want to have wars. If we didn’t want them, we wouldn’t have them. It’s within our power to stop them.

Thanks, Brenda.

On another front, now that the furor has died down a bit about Mitt Romney’s role as a scissor-wielding bully, I thought I’d weigh in with one thought. It was actually well voiced by Charles M. Blow in the Saturday, May 12, 2012 New York Times in an Op-Ed piece titled “Mean Boys”. (You can read it here.)

Blow argues that when Romney said, “if someone was hurt or offended, I apologize” it was not a real apology. A real apology is based on feeling remorse, not on whether or not someone else felt hurt. Aside from the fact that I do not believe for a moment that Romney doesn’t remember the incident – yes, he lied – he clearly has a malfunctioning conscience if he doesn’t feel compelled to apologize without the qualifications.

I particularly noticed this because this experience mirrored my own. I was bullied when I was a kid; I was repeatedly pushed around and hit. When years later I confronted my tormentor he said, “if I did those things, I’m sorry.”

IF ?

IF ??!!

You DID those things, I just told you so. There’s no IF. Even if you don’t remember all the specifics, own up to the facts and express remorse. Don’t dally with it; don’t try to call my account into question.

To this day I have never fully forgiven this person, and I expect I never will. Not as long as he avoids full responsibility.

Ditto for Mitt.

Finally, some last thoughts on the Robert Lepage Ring at the Met: overall, I loved it, though that has more to do with Wagner’s orchestral writing than with anything else. The music is simply breathtakingly beautiful -- powerful and moving too.

The production’s use of video is astounding and “the machine” is remarkable, though I have to say, it eventually wore out its welcome. It seemed that every scene began with the machine in one position and with no video display; then slowly it would rise or lower, twist and turn into place, coming alive with images, all the while broadcasting an inescapable “aren’t I cool?” vibe. (Click here for a short video of one "the machine's" non-moving star turns.)

The singing was almost all stellar, though, as already noted, Deborah Voight was not having a particularly good Ring. Her Brünnhilde was wan and her singing was often not full-throttle. Stephen Gould’s Siegfried on the other hand, was a marvel. Ditto the Met Orchestra, which proved once again it is at the very top of American ensembles, though, in truth, John Keenan’s languorous tempos in Götterdämmerung made an already long opera even longer and slower than it needed to be. And while I’m thinking of it, let me say that three different conductors for the four Ring operas is just not a good idea.

Finally, it was a great treat to take two of our meals in the employee cafeteria backstage at the Met. There’s something very cool about hanging out with the musicians who just played their hearts out for two hours and are about to do so again for three more. Thank you, Ransom!

All in all, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. Will I do the Ring again? Absolutely. Will I do this Ring again? Maybe.