Occupying the Opera

Last Wednesday was the General Strike, organized by the Occupy Oakland movement, and it was very successful - a few of the banks shut down, some schools, and thousands of people marched very peacefully.  There was some property destruction, some of it at the Oakland Whole Foods (which is dear to my heart), and I've got my own theories about what happened there, but I won't go into it right now. 

To be clear, I am *for* the Occupy movement, because I am one of the 99%.  I mean, the kind of great and amazing thing about the Occupy movement is that it's got a really wide base of support, because it's essentially....well, all of us. All of us, except for just 1% of us, are part of the 99%.  It is literally the vast majority, by definition. 

And just in case you want to know which group you are in (figures vary - so these are VERY approximate), if you make more than $350,000 per year, you are probably in the 1%.  Over $150,000 or so puts you in the top 5%, and $110,000 puts you in the top 10%.  So, with that in mind....Realize the disparity, socially, is even more extreme, because usually when someone says something like "4 out of 5 like figs," you look around and think, OK, I am in a room with 5 people, and that means 4 of us should like figs. Approximately.  But in the case of Occupiers, it's not random, it's self-selecting - which means the 1% stick together and they aren't hanging out with the 99% of us. 

So, on the day of the General Strike, I went to the perfect place to lodge my own little protest - the opera.  Yes, more opera drama.  The Opera Conspiracy!  I was late - as ALWAYS - but this time I was late to being early enough for dinner, so I ducked into the closest restaurant to the actual opera house, a place called Jardiniere, which is described on their website this way: "There's something glamorous, exciting and urbane about Jardiniere, which has been one of the top restaurants in San Francisco since it was opened in 1997 by designer Pat Kuleto and chef Traci Des Jardins." 

So, I went right on in, boldly, clearly a poseur - oh yes, everyone from the patrons to the hostess in fancy restaurants can always tell I am just visiting - I'm not sure what the opposite of slumming is, but that's what I was doing, and that's what I am always doing when I go to the opera. Naturally every table was full (of people in higher percentiles than I) but I was able to wedge myself into this castaway tiny niche flat surface they'd set with a chair and a place setting, between the bar and the kitchen, which was actually kind of cool because I could chat with the bartender and watch the kitchen staff's antics.  

I ordered my $11 drink (a Monte Carlo: Benedictine, orange bitters and whiskey) and my bar-portioned risotto, and wrote in my journal, and enjoyed looking at the lush and opulent surroundings - I was the ONLY person doing so, by the way.  One of the great tragedies of the rich is that they HAVE gotten used to it - the luxury - and don't even appreciate it anymore.  I try and appreciate everything.  I am grateful for my hot water, and refrigeration, and my clean towels.  I've had those things all my life but I am aware many people in the world don't, so I make a point to feel grateful for these things. 

I was excessively kind and friendly to the bartender, because she seemed a bit harried - pouring tons of "tastes" for the patrons.  Waitress upon waitress came by to ask for a taste of this wine or that.  Finally, I said, "Wow, they are really big on tastes here."  She smiled at me, then shrugged and said a bit conspiratorially, "Well, you know...in this economy."  What's that?  The 1% can't afford to buy $11 glasses of wine?  I mean, I'm top 50%, and I can afford a glass of $11 wine.  Not every night, and not several at once, but gee whiz.  These people ordered free wine and they didn't seem to be heading to the same $15 balcony rear sections as I was.  (Incidentally, my friendly bartender did in fact give me an unsolicited taste of delicious white wine, after I'd spent some time sympathizing with her....so I don't know what that means except there really is kindness everywhere).

At the opera, wedged into A29 - and yes, I was plenty on time, like 5 minutes to spare - I heard the people behind me discussing the Occupy Oakland events.  They were for it.  I was in the 99% seats, because the whole thing is that even at the OPERA, there's still a lot of 99%'ers.  The opera, incidentally, was Don Giovanni, which I had never seen, and which I had always erroneously thought to be a "dark" Mozart opera (an impression left by the 80's classic film Amadeus); it was actually quite funny, except for the fact that Don Giovanni was essentially a real asshole.  OK, a womanizer ("A Don Juan story"), but not just like some guy who likes to sleep around; no, he was a so-called nobleman (his actions were not very noble) who slept with women almost pathologically - thousands of them, many of them "seduced" - which you realize basically means they acquiesce to the rich guy's demands because what else are they going to do?  This guy can have their lover's head chopped off. 

My point it, he's got a sickness, of never having enough.  In fact, the opera is very political in nature and quite reflective of the Occupy sentiments.  It opens with Don Giovanni's servant's lament - he's really depressed about how shitty it is to be poor and under the power of a jerk master ("night and day, I slave away" he even sings - thanks to my friend T for pointing that out to me); then Don Giovanni's commits a sort of wanton, off the cuff murder of the father of the girl he just slept with, to which he basically says "oops."  This is indicative of his entire attitude. (Spoiler alert, by the way - seems weird to have a spoiler alert for an opera, but there you are). 

He sticks proudly to his bad character, threatening to kill his servant on several occasions, treating women and actually everyone else as if they are mere things and only he himself is worth anything; his egosim and self-satisfaction are almost admirable as he defies, it turns out, first a ghost and then death.  He is given repeated attempts to repent, but to the end, he denies he's done anything wrong.  He deserved his great life, he's certain of that; he deserved to get away with all the shit he got away with.  He basically descends into hellfire at the end - very good special effects made it seem like the singer was aflame - laughing in a way that isn't at all nice.

The point it, this has been a problem - the rich and the poor - for a very, very long time.  Don Giovanni premiered in 1787, but it's a pretty familiar problem.  So why now?  Why is the Occupy movement gaining ground?  And what is it we want?  (And unless you make more than $350,000 per year, you have to ask "What do we want?" not "What do they want?" because, agree or not, you are one of us.)

It's pretty obvious to me, really, what it's all about.  Money is a representation of wealth, it is not wealth itself.  You can't, for instance, eat it - you can only use it to GET things to eat.  It's not a good building material for shelter, and you definitely can't drink it - if you were dying of thirst in the desert, a pint of water would be much preferred to a million dollars in cash, right?  So we all already know it's a type of game, in which we (all the players) agree to say that this thing represents something else. 

Like Monopoly - the money in Monopoly cannot be used to buy anything outside of the game. But if you are playing Monopoly, you really need that money, or you lose.  And when does Monopoly end?  Invariably, someone ends up getting too rich and powerful - gets too much money - and the other players get tired and bored and want to do something else, like watch TV.  Technically, the game ends whenever everyone else has gone bankrupt, but no one really plays that long.  It's pointless.  Once it's clear which player is going to own everything, we lose interest.

So it is now, only in real life.  The 1% have simply taken too much.  It's not that the Occupy movement is saying, let's destroy the system, let's have a revolution.  They are simply saying, it's pretty much already happened.  The game is over.  The system has already collapsed.  It's no fun to play anymore.  We're Americans, which means most of us believe in the American Dream - don't tax the rich, because we want to BECOME the rich.  But lately, it's just way too clear that very, very few of us - far fewer of us now than in prior decades, centuries - are ever going succeed.  It's just like when your obsessive brother gets too crazy and competitive during that Monopoly game, and you get upset because he's being a jerk, and Mom has to come out and remind him to be nice, because after all it's just a game, and who wants cookies?

Only this time the game has very high stakes and people who are losing are losing their lives.  We (again, you can only say THEY if you are in the 1% now) are sick or dying because we can't afford good food or health care, or mentally ill, or addicted to drugs, or homeless or experiencing any of the millions of tiny ways in which our social and economic system daily simply wastes away our potential to be bright, kind, creative spirits in the world - because we have no avenue to flourish, no education, no means, no understanding and so on. 

We have some resources, some hope, yes, of course.  I am exaggerating to make a point, which is the system is way out of balance.  Why keep playing the game with your annoying brother?  Why not just stand up, say, that's it, it's no fun anymore.

That's what I say to the 1%: is it really still so fun?  In your heart & soul, are you truly enjoying the game - the game of taking more and more from everyone else, until what?  You have everything and we have nothing?  Do you really and truly find your daily actions to be life-affirming?  Is your spirit growing?  Is your heart growing?  Is your need to take it ALL making you a happier, better person? 

The Monopoly winners I know always ended up, ultimately, grumpy, mostly because they realized on some level that they gloated too much and alienated everyone else.  They wandered into the living room shyly and just wanted to join the rest of us having popcorn, and hoped everyone else wouldn't bring up how they kind of acted like a jerk during the game, which we usually didn't. 

So, I think we've played out capitalism in its current incarnation.  We need to start another round; that is what the Occupy movement is about.  I personally want to play some OTHER game - I never liked Monopoly, literally, and I don't want to keep playing capitalism, especially when there are so many other MORE interesting games to play.  But if we're going to keep playing, at least we need to acknowledge that this round is over, and we need to collect all the money and property and deal it out again evenly, so we can start another round. 

Occupy Wall Street is just about that.  Time to re-deal.  The game is over, and if goes to the bitter end, no one is going to enjoy it very much, after all, not even the winners.  The fun part, you see, is always the popcorn in the living room afterwards - the connection, the love, the forgiveness.  When we can be 100%.