They've sent me away again. For the last few days, I've been shacking up with Sarah (but not in the Biblical way, though I'm pretty sure she wants a piece of this chicken.) She's Opera Cleveland's grant writer and my personal seamstress, apparently. I'm getting fitted for my tux, which I will need in a couple weeks for operas I see when I head out to the OPERA America conference.
Because Sarah has been sewing me a formal ensemble, I was puzzled why she posted this question to me on my last blog entry:
"So what's your take on the habit of animals and partial nudity - Donald Duck wears a shirt but no pants - Mickey pants but no shirt - Daffy obviously aligns with nudists... and it appears you do as well... curious about your stance on this important issue."
I don't think I have made this clear enough: I do NOT like animals affected with human characteristics. Just because a mouse can talk in the voice of a castrato and emote as well as, uh, Keanu Reeves doesn't make him funny.
So I do not really appreciate the comparison to these cartoon hacks.
That said, Sarah is correct that I'm more often than not unclothed. When I say I'm free-range, I mean all that sweet word implies. But I certainly don't mind forgoing my natural state to look fierce in some cool duds. I will surely be modeling them on this blog.