September 20, 2018 – The Hypocrite And The Fallen Woman Encore, Encore.

I wandered out to the Belvedere Palace this morning. It is not surprisingly UNaffiliated with the ABC sitcom about a butler. And I balked at paying the admission fee to go into the museum — yes, there are masterworks in there. But there are images of what I should see inside rendered on their promo materials, so, ya know… I feel like I kinda saw what I needed to see.

I’m fully aware of my hypocrisy here. I am after all the guy who traveled to Tunisia to see, and touch, and breathe the Star Wars world of Tatooine. (Side note: I did pay for that trip with a less than stellar time). I’m still a firm believer in the tactile sensation of the true and present. But I’m also a firm believer that I’m not great at admiring art and I’m especially not great at it when I’m just wandering through because I feel like I should be doing that.  So the virtual and the reproduction and the replication are okay in this regard.  Or so I keep telling myself, hypocritically.

I’ve really phoned in my sightseeing here in Vienna thus far. I took a list of “must-see”s and scribbled them down on a scrap paper. I google-mapped the most efficient route and I just… wandered from point A to point B to point… well, you get the idea.

I’m sure with a proper tour guide I’d get a historical flavor and feel; I’d then recognize the import and impact of events, structures, and movements that rocked and roiled the Austrian landscape over the centuries. And I’ll try and add in a few random details of stuff as I post, mostly gleaned sad to say from Wikipedia, but the fact of the matter is I’m kinda down personally and overall at the moment.

This cold just won’t let me sleep — I’m sniffling, snuffling, and just generally not feeling well. I’ll need to see if I can’t find some stronger meds here in Europe to try and knock it back a bit. And I’m fully aware all seems worse when one is sick. But as it stands, I’m facing a three-quarter life crisis. I’m fortunate and privileged to be able to do what I want to do, to go where I want to go, and I sometimes feel like I’m wasting that advantage. Today I wandered all sorts of food stalls with lovely options — but everything seemed too heavy, too rich, too… MUCH for me at the moment. I don’t know if it’s because all I can taste at the moment is the cold medication and all I can smell is… well… I can’t smell. I can barely breathe through my nose to be perfectly frank. But it’s not just that. I’m kinda embarrassed about the Aussie numbers thing. And I’m just a bit mopey in general due to life itself. It’s all a bit much, no? Just… everything.

I’ve decided dress codes be damned however. I put in a request for a “Tourist” ticket to the Vienna Opera tonight — it’s their production of “La Traviata” and so while I’m bummed I’m seeing the same show, it should be interesting to compare and contrast the two stagings. And it turns out, my request for a single ticket came through. Which is all fine and dandy. I even swung by a secondhand shop to see if I could pick up a cheap pair of slacks or something to gussy myself up slightly. But there was no way I was paying 33 euros for a used pair of pants… especially since they charged me 34 euros for a 17 euro obstructed view ticket.

PANTS VS. TICKET

Thus, ya know what? I’m going as I always go — as a scruffy, schlumpy, disheveled and rumpled ugly American. I may be a hypocrite, but I’m a true-to-form hypocrite.

And now, some photos: